Dreogan had never imagined this feeling would return. The emptiness in the stomach, the tightness in the throat. . .

This time, he told himself, he would not panic. And, indeed, he executed everything with near machine-like efficiency.

He visited Kiva’s parents to find that, as he had suspected, she had not been there. Though she had been expected. Kiva never was the sort to break and engagement and never, never without just reason.

Quickly, he ran through everything he knew. On his map, he had seen her at her flat at about eleven o’clock Friday night. She had said she’d be home. He’d not thought anything of that.

So she had been home. . . And yet, the Katzes had insisted that Gordon and Lady had been particularly hungry when they had come by that afternoon, that nothing seemed to be out of place.

It had taken Dreogan two more hours and a visit to Kiva’s home to ascertain that she was nowhere to be found in London. That he knew definitively. The Katzes could account for no reason why she would be with her Muggle friends without telling them, nor why she might have left town. And what distressed Dreogan most of all, scrying in his mirror brought nothing back in the mirror but his own, increasingly distressed reflection. He was being willfully blocked from Seeing her. Magic.

This narrowed, Dreogan wasted no time  in tearing out of her home and arriving at the Ministry.  His gait was hurried and, as Dreogan felt the pulse of his watch against his wrist and the press of passing time, his steps turn to a trot, then a light jog as he plowed through the doors of the Department of Magical Enforcement. His outstretched hands thrust open the inner doors of the Auror’s Office with a loud thud. As Dreogan entered, he noted that two Aurors had risen to their feet, his brother amongst them.

“Dree! What—“

“She—“ Dreogan cut himself off. He needed to be clear about this. Especially with several Aurors’ eyes upon him. “Tamis Raynor. Where is she?”

Mutely, Adon shoved his thumb over his shoulder to her office. The door was open and Dreogan with a renewed intensity, moved towards it. When she was not inside, he spun around, panicked, only to come nearly nose-to-nose with the woman. “Akiva Katz has. . . Tamis,” he said, swallowing and looking about, feeling the piercing gazes of her Aurors. “Can I talk to you in your office, perhaps? It’s very urgent. A Missing Person’s Report. But I think there are some things we can – first --” Dreogan was getting ahead of himself. He swallowed once more, a shuddering sort of a breath followed. This would, he told himself, go better than last time.

‘Nose-to-nose’ was, of course, strictly in a metaphorical sense as, when Eleor wheeled around, they were in fact more chest-to-nose. Dreogan Eleor was not an ambitiously tall man, but at an even five feet Tamis Raynor was not tall by any stretch of the imagination – except, perhaps, by Goblin standards.

Word in the Auror Office could travel fast with the proper motivation. Raynor had not expected the news that an incoherent man was demanding to see her to interrupt her tea break. It had been a very good cup of tea. The head of curly hair standing in her doorway was becoming increasingly familiar. But before she could acknowledge him, Eleor reaffirmed his identity when he wheeled around, almost squarely running into her in the process. This had better be worth the forsaken tea.

It was.

The man was clearly in a bother, struggling to form the proper words. Actual sentences seemed out of the question. The mention of Akiva Katz was worrisome, Tamis had not heard from her in a few days, but honestly had been too busy to give it much thought... After a moment, he seemed to get a better handle of himself, speaking more coherently. She, as well, was aware of half the room’s eyes trained on them.

“Of course,” she responded and the room seemed to sigh.

By now, almost every Auror in the room had risen to his or her feet, peering over and around cubicles and some ever advancing strategically closer to the Head Auror’s office. Almost all of them had their wands ‘half-cocked’, so to speak. By verbally accepted the rabid man she confirmed that he was not a raving lunatic with malicious intentions. Raynor just hoped that she had made the appropriate assumption. Eleor looked more of a threat to himself than anyone else at the moment, really. That was pure, unadulterated panic lurking just behind the surface of his eyes.

“You have to turn around so that we both can get into my office,” she reminded him, as gently as possible. She was more than a little anxious to move this conversation out of the public eye.

Dreogan cared little what the others might think now. In a short time, he supposed several would be working with him to help locate Kiva and they would know in due time the gravity of the situation. They were accustomed to this sort of thing. Surely -- surely they were not beyond feeling. And yet they looked at him as though he were half-mad.

"S'okay," he heard Adon say to another. "It's my brother." The exchange continued and he felt the weight of his little brother's gaze upon him, but he focussed all attention on the Head Auror. At her words, he gave a quick nod and stepped aside. "Right," he breathed. "Thank you," he muttered hastily as he followed her in and shut the door.

"Akiva Katz has been missing since last night, when she left work. I know she made it as far as her door last night, but she did not make it inside enough to feed her animals. She did not show up this morning to meet her parents, and she was to meet me later this evening. I've called her mobile, Muggle telephone and there was no answer." He eyed the chair before her desk but rather opted for pacing. He had far too much energy to make it through what he wanted to say seated.

"What is more, I've done some preliminary searches and she is not in London. At least not that I could see." He looked intently to Tamis. "And I think I would be able to see most everything unless guarded by very advanced magic. My feeling is that she is outside of Greater London. But she has not told anyone; she didn't plan for this, whatever has happened."

Dreogan knew she was close to Akiva; this would be dealt with swiftly. There would not be the hours of beauracratic delay, as had been with his father's case, as they debated what the Israeli Magical community had to do with a British, radical wizard's fate. Akiva was well-loved and, what was most distressing, seemingly without enemies. From exhaustive conversation with her parents, Dreogan and they could not come up with one solid name.

This was where Tamis came in handy. Perhaps Frank Pratt . . . The aggressor was in the magical community. But who?

 “Sit down and have a drink, Mr. Eleor.” It was more of an order than a request.

The Head of the Auror Office was already extracting a bottle of mead from the cabinet behind her desk, carefully avoided the poisoned firewhiskey in the back, a precaution she adopted from her predecessor. One of the few alcoholic beverages that favored, she often reserved the mead for reunions with old friends or when she had an unsettled Auror – she dubbed this occasion worthy.

“I promise you I will do my best to find her. But I will not tolerate you pacing my office like a caged hippogriff.”

 She filled a glass and slid it across the desk toward him. The moment she had crossed the threshold of her door, he had begun briefing her on the predicament. Under normal conditions, she thought the man spoke rather quickly, it was almost impossible for her to understand him now though she pulled out key phrases. Last night, so it had not even been a twenty four hour window yet.  Able to see her except if she were blocked by Advanced Magic? One of her eyebrows began to rise wearily. The simple fact that he was insinuating that he kept tabs on his girlfriend was concerning, the means sounded illegal. She was almost positive that it was best if she played ignorant; for everyone’s sake.

She was positive that she was not going to have this discussion with the man if he did not calm down. The fact that Akiva Katz might be missing and that it had her boyfriend in such a bother after such a short time stuck the Auror at a personal level. But Dreogan was here asking for her professional assistance or so she assumed. However much she might care about Akiva, there were restrictions if to whether or not she would be able to help. She needed more details and she was not going to try and extract them from a panic stricken individual.

“We typically do not begin a missing person’s investigation until at least twenty four hours after they have gone missing.” She raised a hand before he could explode, “I am not saying I will not help, I am trying to figure out how I can help. Is there any indication that she was abducted? Or that she has gone missing due to magical means?”

Her gaze lifted to her door, noticing he had closed it. After a moment, it creaked open again, falling flush against the wall. She saw no reason to close this conversation off from her men if they were eavesdropping. Mainly, it was to assure those beyond the door that all was well on the inside.

Archer didn’t mean to be nosey, he really didn’t, but when he saw a mop of curly dark hair over the top of his cubicle, he couldn’t help but be intrigued as to what on Earth was going on.  If he recognized that head at all, which he most assuredly did, he wondered what Dreogan Eleor had to do in the Auror office.  His brother, the newest addition to the team, made it well aware he was there, and then he walked straight into Ray, as though there were no procedure for getting to her or anything.  Granted, he looked visibly upset, but really? 

That was all it took for the Auror to stand up from his desk and to try and wander over to the door without looking like he was really trying to listen in.  Of course, he wasn’t sure how that was going to work – and wasn’t the only one with the same idea.  Though he felt like he was the only one who really had any right to listen – maybe with the exception of Adon, but it didn’t even appear he was going to get up to listen.  Mostly, Archer just wanted to make sure Dreogan didn’t get himself hexed or thrown into jail for being insane, so he meandered forward. 

Bailey, a rather obnoxious, fiery haired auror with a pug nose also seemed interested.  He snuck up behind Archer and tried to use him as some sort of shield as they approached the wide open door.  Archer was not amused.  Glaring back at the little man (he was little by Archer’s standards – he was standing at five feet and five inches tall – leprechaun was generally the name thrown around when he wasn’t present), and furrowed his dark brows at the slightly younger man.  He didn’t seem to get the point and edged up closer.  Archer had to put his hand out and push him a little, “Don’t you know eavesdropping is rude?” he growled under his breath.

The tepid green-eyes of the auror looked upward at Archer’s face and finally he saw that the man was not kidding.  Bailey nodded, muttering some half-hearted apology before scampering back to his little cage of a cubicle.  He probably fit in his better than Archer did.  While he had warned the other man that he was eavesdropping, Archer considered himself to be a fact-finder and bodyguard for whichever one of the two in the office needed it (probably Eleor).  Leaning against the door frame (though not in it – that was too obvious), Archer listened to the muttering and pacing steps – Ray’s cool and collected voice trying to calm him down.

It appeared he thought his girlfriend was missing – and seemed to be a little sketchy about it.  Archer raised his eyebrows and peeked in to see the physical reactions of what was going on, though it was nothing too interesting.  He could have done for a small tumbler of that mead though.  Not on the job, idiot.  He sighed and relaxed back, crossing his arms over his chest as he peered around to see if anyone else was going to join him – it wasn’t every day a crazy looking, curly-headed diplomat came in… well… that was a lie… though sometimes they had straight hair…

Enough Radley!  Ray seemed to be handling the situation well – though he probably would have shoved him back into a seat by his shoulders.  Dreogan, on the other hand, was a wreck.  Big surprise there.

[[OOC: This post is essentially useless, but I was having fun <.< ]]

When the door to the Auror Office had been flung open, Aberdeen, who had been discussing a minor case with Adon Eleor, stood up instinctually. What was wrong that someone was barging into the DoMLE without any announcement? Someone with curly hair and a vexed disposition-- wait a minute, wasn't that Dreogan Eleor, from International Cooperation? The chap Akiva had started seeing? Her inkling was confirmed when Adon addressed him in familiar terms-- of course, the younger auror was his brother.

She might have greeted him in a friendly manner, perhaps asked after Akiva, had not the situation immediately seemed so serious. And suddenly, Akiva was mentioned by name, and not in a tone that was at all reassuring. The next few moments, in which the elder Eleor demanded to see Raynor and was ushered into her office, passed almost too quickly for Aberdeen to made sense of. Missing Person? Akiva? She remembered briefly that she had tried to contact her friend some time last night to arrange for her to babysit Robin, but hadn't been able to get an answer from Akiva's mobile phone. She hadn't thought anything of it, and figured she would try again later. Should she be worried? Eleor had a reputation for being overly anxious, didn't he?

Archer Radley, she noticed, had approached the door to Raynor's office, and scared off Bailey from hiding behind him. She smirked a little despite herself. Trust Archer to chide someone for eavesdropping while eavedropping himself. She sauntered over to join him, leaning against the wall on the other side of the door from him, raising her eyebrows at him with a hint of her crooked grin, as if daring him to chase her off as well. But she couldn't keep the concerned expression off her face as she inclined her head towards the sound of the two voices, much clearer now that the door was open. Akiva was one of her closest friends. It wasn't unnatural that Aberdeen would want to check everything was all right.

Reading her pointed gaze, Dreogan took a deep breath and was careful to speak with as bland a manner possible as he followed her orders and took a seat. "No," he said as he leaned back in the chair a little. "Thank you, no. I don't drink." Dreogan even managed in the brief silence following this response to keep from bouncing his knee anxiously, though his hands rose to rub the back of his neck.

What Dreogan did not want to read, but could not help doing so, was her tone. When he had been fifteen, when he had reported the only other kidnapping in his life, he had been met with the same tone. But he was fifteen. Being anxious and being rushed and concerned was not the same as being illogical. It was not the same as being fifteen. Dreogan had come a long way in that time.

“We typically do not begin a missing person’s investigation until at least twenty four hours after they have gone missing.” She raised a hand before he could explode, “I am not saying I will not help, I am trying to figure out how I can help. Is there any indication that she was abducted? Or that she has gone missing due to magical means?”

And Dreogan knew very well, desperately well from professional experience that beyond the first day, chances of recovery of a missing person decreased drastically with each passing hour. The 1-day waiting period made sense at a business-level -- the Ministry could only supply so much support for each concerned individual -- but made little sense statistically. Then again, Dreogan understood order, heirarchy, protocol. He had observed all of these, even instituted them as Head of Security and Defense at Kibbutz Erez. Nevertheless, Dreogan, ever chary of bureaucracy, knew the necessary delay made progress in the field difficult, if not impossible.

Biting back a response that Tamis of course must sit on the case for what ever time the Ministry decreed, he reminded himself of the respect he felt for Tamis' position -- and understanding. However unpleasant.

"That will be five hours, then," he said, seizing upon the critical semantic difference between "missing" and "missed." No one in acquaintance had seen her since roughly 11:00 pm, closing the library. Family grew concerned, however, only at 11:00 am.

He shifted in his seat as he felt, then saw, the presence of several of the Aurors from the office listening in. If it had been his office, he'd have invited them in. But it was not and though he didn't like lurkers behind his back, he spoke clearly enough for all to hear. "There is no trace of anything. I have no more cause to assume her missing than the unaccountable fact that she has not been seen by anyone in acquaintance and that she has, uncharacteristically, broken a number of engagements with people." He leaned forward slightly and rubbed his forehead. "You cannot, I know, proceed on lack of evidence, but in my experience in Israel, that was always the distinguishing difference between Muggle and Magical attacks upon the kibbutz. Muggle means cannot help but leave a trace that can be discerned through magic. But magic can confound other magic. I suspected magical means because she seemed to vanish in thin air." And Dree did admit he was confounded. He did his best to remain composed, and he'd not be condescended to. Raynor might speak in the "I," -- I will do my best to find her -- but he could prove himself capable of "we." Dreogan knew that the feelings he felt, the symptoms he expressed -- the need to be involved, included, informed, integral -- were directly symptomatic of the families of victims. He had, once upon a time, been sitting at Raynor's desk, speaking to frenzied parents. Sobbing spouses. This morning, he had spoken to Kiva's parents. He had, as he had done several times before in Israel,  put the parents to the task of completing small, potentially insignificant tasks: making lists cataloguing the victim's daily ritual, preferred restaurants, closest friends, estranged exes. . .

But Dree was different. He was not family. He was more than a panicked boyfriend. He was trained in this. He led expeditions like this. It was not just personal, it was professional. And Raynor could sit across from him in the position of power but she could not, she could not speak in "I." Even she must acknowledge the personal in her own profession.

She was close to Kiva, too.  She was trained in this. That made them two. That made them "we."

While Adon was growing unfortunately accustomed to the haggard appearance of his brother -- this manhunt for Tawse that Dreogan was taking upon himself and near obsessive protection of his mother was taking its toll -- it was the tone of voice that startled Adon.

He did not catch Dreogan's words, only the tone; but that was enough for Adon to slowly rise and, face grim, follow the other Aurors to the door, where he also stood, listening to Raynor's response.

Dreogan seemed to think that Akiva was missing and had near admitted to tracking multifarious individuals about London. Oh, God. Adon rubbed a hand over his face. This was such a mess. He hoped nothing on Tawse would get out at this moment. And hoped word of this would not get to Akiva. She seemed very into his brother, but even that might not ameliorate the situation.

Adon took a step forward to intercede. Perhaps he could talk Dreogan out of this one; calm him down. He glanced side-long at Archer and mouthed, "He needs a moment." Adon had to get him out of there away from Raynor. From all the Aurors. Somewhere quiet and alone, where he could talk it out.

But there was something that caused an even sicker twist in his stomach. Adon fully trusted Dreogan's tracking abilities -- and why should he not? the man had made it an obsession. If something had disrupted the ordinary functionings of his spells and precautions, there was, perhaps grounds for concern.

As Adon considered that Dreogan had never fully recovered from the loss of their father -- had obsessively played and replayed what he might have done over and over in his head -- he grew increasingly concerned. Dreogan could not withstand a second time, and yet he willingly lived it over and over. And this time, if someone else was responsible, if someone else had taken Akiva. . . he'd give them holy hell.

In the ministry, it was a well known fact that aurors were somewhat nosy. Although they would never admit to it. They had a drive to find things out and resolve things, play detectives and save lives. This meant they had to eavesdrop and most loved it. It was quite possible that half of them could have been journalists in a previous life. Therefore it was no surprise to Edward that when he stood up to ‘stretch his legs’ and see what the commotion he could hear was about, that a small, exclusive gathering seemed to have formed outside of the bosses office. An eavesdropping session for interested parties. And lo and behold, Goliath was amongst them, standing tall and bearlike, impossible to miss. The man stood out like a sore, oversized and bulging thumb.

Deciding that he two didn’t fancy missing anything, Eddie picked his coffee mug up and sauntered out from his cubicle. He needed a break anyway. He was getting a headache. So why not join the party forming outside the headmistress’ beloved office? He wanted to find out why the anxious man had barged in and been able to see Raynor so quickly. What happened to protocol? Edward wouldn’t have put him as one of those to be above it.

Eddie, at a leisurely pace, made his way across the office, weaving past public cubicles to arrive just outside of the boss’s office. He gave Spencer a smirk and a wink before leaning against the wall next to Radley.

“Didn’t yer mommy ever teach ye not to eavesdrop, Goliath? Ye might ‘ear summit naughty.” He whispered, raising an eyebrow.

There was a heavy silence between the two and for a moment of a second Raynor did not think her was going to obey her ‘suggestion’. But then he gathered his wits and positioned himself in the armchair in front of her desk. To his credit, he managed to sit there fairly still. When he declined the drink, she inclined her head in polite acceptance and pushed the glass off to the side. Someone would want it later, she would let them fight over.

Waiting for his response, the Head Auror took the opportunity to analysis the man more thoroughly. He was genuinely concerned, that much was obvious. It took a very brave or very desperate individual to barge into the center of the Auror Office practically foaming at the mouth. She did not think it was bravery that had carried him past all of those trigger-friendly wands.

What she was not sure was whether or not his fear was Just. It was common knowledge that Dreogan Eleor was ….prone to paranoia. While it was very unusual for Akiva Katz to disappear without communication to anyone for long periods of time, it was too soon to rule out other factors. She might have gone to help a friend and it was urgent enough that she had not contacted anyone yet, for example. The Auror Office was far too preoccupied to frantically go searching for a snitch in the dark, however much the woman cared for her friend.

“Five hours missing?” She asked, seeking clarification.

Sighing, she rubbed the bridge between her eyebrows in frustration. “If she were a missing child, I would start putting together the Investigation now. The Department will not give me clearance to act prematurely on an adult case unless there is viable belief for foul play or magical involvement.”

Nor was she sure they could risk the man power such a search would require. The Ministry did not have a good rap sheet with Missing Persons. Bertha Jerkins for example, granted the woman had a habit of wandering off, but well, it was a good example. Tamis was not as cold hearted as many made her seem, Akiva Katz was a friend, and she wanted to be able to give the man peace of mind, but they had to be practical. And if she truly was missing… Raynor was well aware of those first crucial twenty four hours, after forty eight you began looking for a corpse.  

“While I cannot approve an official man hunt yet, we can begin on recorded preliminaries. Lists of possible enemies, any sources for motive compiled by family and friends. Lists of addresses and residences… anywhere she might have gone unannounced. Anyone at all that she might have gone to visit. ” She ran the hand on her forehead up and through her hair. “We can get a warrant to search Akiva’s home for traces of magic, but I would need the signature of her closest living relative in her absence.” And it was going to require more paperwork than Raynor wanted to think about… approving a Ministry search for a muggle location.

Archer had never fashioned himself a trendsetter, but it appeared that he was not the only one who was interested in what was going on in Ray’s office.  Slowly, one by one, the others came up and started to crowd around.  Spencer challenged him, to which he could only reply with a shake of the head and a smile.  He wouldn’t send her off – she was a good woman and at least she had been good enough to stay in front of him and right in the line of vision, unlike the worm Bailey who thought it would be better to hide behind the big guy than admit he was just as curious as everyone else. 

It wasn’t that they tried to be obnoxiously involved in events, but well, it was their job to do so.  Ray knew that when she got the big office with the constantly polished doorknob, she wasn’t going to be granted more privacy – quite the contrary, at least in Archer’s view.  So, those that he deemed worthy of this interest (to answer any questions, yes he did feel justified in making this decision), congregated. 

Looking at Adon, Archer didn’t even pretend he would send him on his merry way.  The man’s brother was in there and if anyone had to go in, it would be those two.  Archer for Ray (though anyone could really physically hold her back) and Adon for Dreogan, just that sense of familiarity.  Adon looked nervous and the auror pat him on the back, “He’s doing fine,” he mouthed in return, though, inwardly, he wondered when they would need to bring in the body bags and strait jackets.  His attention was briefly back in the room, particularly when Dree began to ramble all of the reasons he thought she was missing.  He was clearly babbling about something he used to do – Archer saw it once in a file – but hadn’t paid much attention to it.  He thought, if this really was the case, and the woman was missing, it could prove to be an interesting thorn in their sides. 

The other most interesting thorn in his side (and good friend), approached, whispering amongst the small group as well.  Archer glanced over his shoulder at Edward Pratt, close personal friend, prankster extraordinaire, and younger auror (whenever he looked at the typical group, he always felt just a little old).  Raising his eyebrows at him, Archer smirked.  “It’s not like I’m listening in on you and that waitress from Diagon – so I’m not too worried, Romeo.” He snorted and rolled his eyes, dropping the tone of his voice from amused to what one could consider serious for Archer Radley.

“Supposed missing person,” he filled him in, “the librarian – Katz,” contextualizing for the tardy student, “apparently since about 11 PM last night.  Seems to think it’s related to magic.”  He figured that was enough of a run over to suit him.  He was also interested in what Tam had to say and how she was handling the situation.  It seemed like she was handling it as best she could, but he didn’t expect Dreogan to be pleased.  He couldn’t imagine the man would, despite his intellect, want to accept the way the system worked.  She was an adult and could have gone undetected for a number of reasons – many of which with no criminal implications at all.  He could have been panicking over nothing. 

Archer felt like he wasn’t the only one who saw things in that light either, looking at Tam rubbing her temples.  He looked to the rest of the group and sighed, “Bet she’s just envisioning the mountains of paperwork…” he muttered, inclining his head higher (though quite unnecessary) to see more.

"No. Five hours until the twenty-four," Dreogan input hastily. "She has been missing . . . nineteen." He tried to keep countenance; five hours? Did Raynor honestly think he would be this stressed on account of five hours? He exhaled and nodded at her explanation. He had expected that much, at least, was standard amongst all organisations of this sort.

He opened his robes pocket to pull out several pieces of lined paper, folded and quartered neatly. He unfolded them and laid them across the desk. "These are from the Katzes, her parents. A list of friends in the area," he pointed to the first sheet, "with addresses should you wish to speak with them and telephone numbers should you wish to call. . ." he paused here and reached into his pocket once more, pulling out a small plastic device. "A cellular phone for this, if you like. Mine." Though that could be problematic, contacting through a third party's phone. Still, he'd give them the option. "A list of her favourite restaurants she might have visited after getting off work," he tapped the second sheet. "And here, a list of potential enemies." The page was blank. "They could think of nothing. They thought maybe through work or school -- but acknowledged that we, the Magical community, might have a better reading on that."

"You'll have to forgive me; I didn't have this officially notarised--" Dreogan tried to make this sound blasé but some tension slipped in unwittingly, "because that, of course, is not my place. You can contact them and confirm whether or not this is accurate for yourselves, however. It's a start." And he wanted them getting started as soon as possible.

"I appreciate this, Madame Raynor," he said curtly, trying to keep this business. Trying to keep the "I" in there. "What can I do to help?"

Nineteen hours officially missing. That made things a little easier at the least. Eleor’s response to her inquisition about the duration of time was rather testy. The Auror lifted an eyebrow at him but did not comment. Rightfully, he had every reason to be nervous and impatient with her. But in situations like this, Raynor was not allowed to make assumptions. Though, in hindsight, her question could have been – and probably should have been – worded differently, but she was not the type to dwell over phrasing. Especially with more critical matters at hand.

Silently, her gaze followed the pieces of parchme—no, muggle paper as Dreogan Eleor presented them. Telephone? Her eyes glazed over at utterly daunting suggestion. To… caul (that was the right, term, yes?) Muggles. On a phone. He said it as if this was something that a pureblood witch, even a pureblood Auror, did on a regular basis. And then the man produced the oddest little device that the woman had ever seen. It was one of those travel-sized telephones muggles had been carrying more and more frequently. She did not even try and repeat the name he had called it. Would that… thing… even work within the Ministry?

“Yes. Thank you. We will contact these individuals.” She, notably, left the muggle device where he left it on the middle of desk. She was not going to touch it until she had to.

Two more pieces of paper slid onto the hardwood surface. One was a list of possible last locations and the other was completely blank except for those strange little blue lines that apparently were needed to keep one’s handwriting straight. Raynor could only phantom that poor penmanship must be prevalent in the muggle world for such a necessity.

No known enemies that her parents could compile. While, from a possible Suspects angle, that was entirely useless, it did at least make it more probable that the disappearance was magical. It would make the paperwork slightly easier.

“I would not expect you to have it notarized,” she said, stiffly but not unprofessionally. As he had said, it was not his place to make such motions. It chafed a little that he inferred that she would scold him for that. She was not so entirely heartless. “Thank you for your assistance.”

At the use of Madam, the Head Auror relaxed a little and the man’s mental standing on her opinion improved. One of the Men must have given him a briefing, though she was not sure which one. Or he actually understood how to properly address someone. Most of the Corps learned that “Miss” was not an acceptable prefix to “Raynor”, if a prefix was needed at all, it was hopeful to see the trend catching. That did not change what she would have to say next, though.

However much the Auror would like to let him help right now, there was not, honestly much the man could do without getting in the way. “You can go do your job, Mr. Eleor, or go home and take a few hours to breath. Perhaps spend some time with Mr. and Mrs. Katz, maybe explain some of the Ministry’s involvement to them. Help them contact the muggle authorities as well. The Auror Office will contact you when we have more developments.” She did not say ‘if’, if they had more developments. Terminology was very important in situations like these.

Dreogan grew increasingly stiff with each added pronouncement. "We will contact. . ." "Thank you for your assistance" as though it were quite over. As though he were no longer a part of the process.

This became crystalline as she gave her final suggestions. But they weren't suggestions; they were orders. And not the ones he wanted to take. He had done what she had asked already, short of informing the Muggle authorities. They would already know him from Sean Wald's murder; he was not anxious to make a second visit, particularly when he had so little to tell them -- as last time -- and such a measure would do nothing in actually locating Akiva. He wanted to be of use damnit, didn't she see the difference between that and out of the way?

The collar of his shirt felt tight as he clenched his jaw and he thought. Of what he would have done in Raynor's shoes. Of what he had done in the past. Certainly, he understood her need for control on the situation. Questioning, fragmenting were dangerous to the hegemony and autonomy that made the Ministry a well-oiled machine. But to exercise its power to keep one out -- who had experience and, dare he say it, a level of expertise in the matter -- simply to assert authority. . .

"Madam Raynor," he said with a clipped precision, "I spent three years heading and  orchestrating operations such as those you will be leading in five hours." He felt his nostrils flair. This was doing nothing to help his cause, but he could not help it. But he could see the failures. The successes. His ability. The faces of families. The faces of victims. The faces of the captors; seldom brought to justice as they ought to have been. For though he protected the Kibbutz, he had no power to enact punishment on those who threatened it. That lay with the State. But he had done this. He had seen it. He had lived it. And he was scared and angry and determined. "And so," he continued, control apparent in his voice, "I wish you luck in it." Hands on the arms of the chair, he rose slowly from the seat.

"My job," he said in response to her admonition, "will, tomorrow, take me to Jordan." And she'd have him out of her hair. Because Salwa Bernier, who had also been missing, had been found. Dead. As a point of contact with the British Ministry, the duty fell to Dreogan to attend the funeral. He had intended to find out what he could there, too; now, he considered looking in to another disappearance while there. The possibility was not that unlikely. They had taken before--stolen his father away. They could take Kiva. . . if they thought her related to the Kibbutz. Or to him.

Dreogan Eleor. How they loved that name.

"I hope to hear from you," he said, doing his best to hide his emphasis on the last word. He did not wish to be too insistent, but his steady gaze made his meaning clear: if he was to be cast aside, he would not suffer the indignity of being relegated to some intern's correspondence and owls. He would hear from the Auror leading the investigation. And Dreogan had no doubt Raynor was that Auror.  "I will be most willing to assist in the search in any capacity, should you need."

She had already opened her desk drawer, which was magically enlarged inside and was pulling out the necessary files and forms this was going to take. If she was lucky, it would not take much more than five hours to get them circulating through the system. Lately, luck had not exactly been her friend, but there were a few favors she could call in…

“I am sure you were very efficient at your previous career,” she responded to him, departing her attention from her quill so that she could look directly at it. He was not the only one who could give pointed stares. Eleor’s reaction was not lost on a woman who survived by reading the reactions and temperaments of others; the flaring nostrils, the stiff jaw, the not-so-hidden messages in his words. She understood his anxiety, but understanding and tolerating were very different concepts. Her toleration had a much shorter life span. Much larger and meaner men had attempted to intimidate her and had failed.

It took a good measure of self control not to lash back out at the man. Self control a younger reincarnation of her would have lacked. Was he suggesting that he was more qualified to handle the situation? This was not a turf war. This was the beginning of a missing person’s investigation. One that they could not start officially start for another five hours and she was not going to have him pacing a trench around the cubicles for those five hours. Aurors were edgy creatures that did not need to become infected by that.

“Thank you,” she responded crisply to his well wishes – if one could call them that.

When he began to rise she put the quill down entirely. He had her undivided attention regardless, but this way it was more apparent. Going to Jordan? She did not assume it was Runespoor related or else she believed her would have admitted that much. Mixed feelings twisted her gut at the revelation but true to form she did not allow it to reach her face.

“I already told you we would be in touch, Mr. Eleor. In five hours.” Patience was almost nonexistent now. She decided that it was better to not comment on his usefulness from Jordan and resumed filing out her request for the search warrant. They were going to need ‘Catastrophes cooperation for that one. She would have loved nothing more than to jump right into the investigation. Her position gave her influence, but not enough influence to completely ignore the system. But maybe they could work with it to their advantage.

“You can tell the mob outside the door that they may come in on your way out,” she added.