(Monday, November 3)

Colonel Kabir arrived at the Ministry ten minutes early. Going to Adon Eleor’s cubicle, he collected the files he and Eleor had so painstakingly put together. By now Ahmed had an office of his own in the Department of International Cooperation, but he did not feel comfortable about leaving sensitive documents there. It was not that he mistrusted Gabrielle Murray-Harker, or doubted her abilities. After all she was the daughter of one of his best friends, and by all reports she was very dedicated and competent. But international affairs had as much to do with diplomacy as with law enforcement; and there was a constant stream of under-ministers and flunkies visiting Level Five. And as Ahmed had cause to know, just because someone was a Ministry official did not mean he or she was not involved in what more and more was taking on the shape of an international conspiracy. So...despite recent events...the only place he felt safe leaving the files was still Level Two.

He wished Eleor had been able to come with him today. He felt odd speaking for Adon, though it was understandable that the younger man would want to pursue whatever mysterious lead had come up. He just hoped that whatever Adon was doing, he would not go without backup...

As Ahmed made his way to Level Four, he went over what he knew of Covadonga Gertrudis. Like himself, she had not only gone through a conventional magical education, but was mentored by indigenous teachers. Her extra training was primarily in Africa. So she would be familiar with the natural habitat of Runespoors, which could be very helpful. Under the current laws Africa was heavily monitored, and no unusual concentrations of Runespoors had been observed. Yet obviously someone was breeding them somewhere. There had been too many incidents in the last few years for that not to be so. Ms. Gertudis might be able to provide some insight on where else the snakes could thrive in large numbers without drawing notice. And being a victim of one of those incidents herself, she would no doubt be motivated to help with the investigation. Runespoor poisoning was excruciatingly painful, as Ahmed knew from his own experience...

By now he should be right on time. Pausing just outside the door of Gertrudis’ office, Ahmed peered inside but didn't see her. So taking a deep breath, he knocked.

At the knock there was a sharp caw from the corner of a room and a bedraggled dirty blond head popped up from behind the desk, and suddenly flopped back down, reappearing with a more fashionable option covering her fly-aways and tangles.  The creamy maroon and dark blue cloche was detailed enough to give the impression that it had been conjured before, but it had been done in such haste that the knot in the ribbon was a bit crooked.

Slowly more of the witch appeared behind the desk as she mumbled something in Dioula, one of the languages spoken in West Africa, mostly by traders.  Despite the difference in tongue her magic still obliged and opened the door for the visitor, just as she began shrugging the top of her sleeping bag off her shoulders.

Yes, she had indeed camped out under her desk... again.  It was called for these days with all the catching up to do.  Regardless the drama Tamis told her about an act like this would have been required   for the next week or so.

Quickly she waved her wand over the top of her desk, straightening up all the paperwork into its respective piles.  Tapping the beverage drawer with the tip of her wand she asked, “How do you do, Mister...” for the first time she really focused on the identity of her impromptu alarm clock, “Ahmed?”  While the two had not been formally introduced, she knew him by way of the Prophet, an article specifically written by Thursby, one of the few reporters she trusted.  Covadonga quickly rejoined with, “Coffee or tea?  The former is a blend from Poas and Tarrazzu,” speaking of Costa Rica, of course, “ and the latter is some rather fresh Rooibos.”

“How do you do, Mister...Ahmed?”  

Ahmed glanced around warily, having heard the caw. It would not be the first time a bird had mistaken his beard for nesting material...However, when he was not dive-bombed the instant he set foot in the office, he relaxed a bit. “Kabir is my family name, Miss Covadonga. But you may call me Ahmed if you’d rather. I am not what you’d call the formal type.”

Ahmed was observant about many things, but female fashion was not one of them. For all he knew Covadonga might wear a knitted cloche to work every day, not to conceal wayward curls but to highlight the striking blue eyes which peered up at him under the brim. Caught up in that intense blue gaze, first he walked into the desk, then he tripped over his own feet and stumbled over the leg of a chair. Glancing down, beet-red with embarrassment, he could not fail to notice the sleeping bag on the floor. Especially since he himself was no stranger to grabbing a few Z’s in the office when times were hectic. “I hope I’m not too early...”

“Coffee or tea?  The former is a blend from Poas and Tarrazzu, and the latter is some rather fresh Rooibos.”

Ahmed was impressed. Either choice would be excellent, but...“Coffee, please. I...erm...find it difficult to wake up any more, without it.”

As the tall man stumbled like a scarecrow falling off its post, there was another caw, the originator of the call hopping up and out of his makeshift nest of lavender notes on the top shelf of her corner bookcase and swooping cockeyed down to his human’s desk.  Speedy’s beady raven black eyes blinked once as his stare turned accusatory.  What permission did he have to be lunging and tripping about so close to his lady?!

Covadonga, on the other hand, was up on her feet in a surprising turn of agility despite her decaffeinated state at the moment of trouble, but gracefully oblivious as to the reason why the man made his missteps.  All concern, she exclaimed, “Good heavens!  No… not early.  Oh dear!  You all right?”

At the mention of his choice of beverage the witch went back to work and opened up the drawer she had tapped into action before.  “I sympathize,” she said, “though I find myself reaching for tea these days,” reaching for the now steaming hot pots.  After checking the depth of color on the rooibos by lifting the lid, she waved her wand and levitated both the coffee and the tea out of the drawer, grabbing a coffee mug, a teacup and saucer, and two doilies to set the pots on. 

In no time all had been set properly.  Gesturing fluidly with one hand for him to sit, the other occupied with pouring his coffee and her tea simultaneously with her wand, she asked, “What can I do for you then, Ahmed?”

“No harm done,” said Ahmed, who was still blushing. No doubt he did resemble the Scarecrow, wobbling precariously as he recovered his balance. In fact had he thought of it, he might have started singing If I Only had a Brain, as he felt extremely foolish. Kabir Ahmed was no stranger to dangerous creatures, being accustomed in his native mountains to Yetis, Garudas, the occasional Kunlun Dragon; and more prosaically, snow leopards and even yaks during rutting season. He was not a man easily frightened.   

Nevertheless...he did not like the way that bird was looking at him. He observed that the crow seemed to have lost interest in his beard, and was now eyeing his Astrakhan cap. This was made of black, curly fleece. Moving...very slowly...to the chair that Covadonga had indicated, he sat down. Then...just as cautiously...he removed the cap, and set it on the desk in front of him. Hopefully if Speedy decided to shred something, it would be the hat and not Ahmed’s scalp...

“I sympathize, though I find myself reaching for tea these days.”

“I enjoy a good cup of tea,” said Ahmed, thinking that the Rooibos did smell excellent, “but that is better  for times when I have the leisure to savor it. When I am first waking up, it would more or less be wasted on me.” Reaching for the floating mug, he took a sip of coffee. It was just as he liked it, with steamed milk and a touch of honey. “Ahhh,” he said appreciatively, setting the mug on the desk by his hat. “Thank you...”

“What can I do for you then, Ahmed?”

He thought for a moment, and said, “I am working on the Runespoor smuggling case, with Adon Eleor. He has been called away for a few days, but we agreed that we ought to update you about our findings, as this falls as much under your jurisdiction as it does ours.”

Speedy exchanged weight from one leg to the other a couple times as he watched Ahmed.  After a moment more of staring the black bird (in some silly show of dominance) hopped right on top of the cap and folded his legs underneath him… that is until Covi CAW!’ed quite indignantly, at which point the bird hurriedly flapped his wings, propelling himself away from the desk and crookedly back to his lavender nest.

With an awkward grin she said, “My deepest apologies, he seems to be a bit cranky this morning,” glancing at the bird momentarily, giving him a harsh “now you behave!” look, sending his beak down in shame.

Turning her attention back to her visitor, Covi settled herself back down in her chair and cleared her throat as she attempted to straighten the bow on her hat.  “Indeed…” she started,  “I feel more behind than ever on the subject since having to leave, what updates do you have for me?”  Plain, simple, and to the point.

Ahmed jumped a little, as Covi did a very convincing crow imitation. But it was effective, as the bird retreated to his own spot without leaving a...memento on Ahmed’s lambskin cap.

“My deepest apologies, he seems to be a bit cranky this morning.”

“No apologies are needed,” said Ahmed. “After all he lives here.  I am the one who brought in the suspicious furry object...” He grinned as she gave Speedy the sort of look a mother gives a misbehaving child, and the bird acted embarrassed. Reaching into his pocket, he found a handful of peanuts, which he set next to the makeshift nest, as a peace offering.

Pretending not to notice Covi’s attempts to straighten the bow on her hat, Ahmed began by explaining that he was there to share what he and Adon Eleor had discovered about the Runespoor mystery.

“I feel more behind than ever on the subject since having to leave, what updates do you have for me?”

He sighed. “While I was in Mumbai to testify in a smuggling case, I happened to overhear a conversation. I could easily recognize two of the three accents...India and the UK. The third was Middle Eastern. Though I can recognize a native speaker of Arabic, I cannot tell one regional dialect from another. But due to his own investigations, Auror Eleor believes it may have been Jordanian.”

“What I heard put me in a grave dilemma. On the one hand, I felt it was important to share this information, but on the other I was wary of reporting it to my superiors. We...the Border Security Force...have been widely accused of corruption, and sad to say the accusations are not unfounded. By contrast, I've heard only good things about my British counterparts.”

“So...when there was an opening to serve as liaison between our two Ministries, I applied. However..." He smiled wryly. “I am not known for my tact. Therefore...I was most surprised to be chosen. But my superiors were the ones who made my travel arrangements. They sent me with a Muggle airline rather than the Floo Network, as one would normally expect. And the moment I set foot off the plane, someone tried to kill me. Auror Eleor now believes his contact in Jordan was killed with the same sort of weapon. A Runespoor dart...”

He leaned forward, to stress his next words. “Judging by what I heard in Mumbai...there is a great demand for Runespoor. As much as anyone can supply, legal or not. In fact it seems that illegal is preferred. Because it would be undetected...”

Poor man, the witch definitely sympathized with him as to the poisoning.  Granted, she received a bite AND was hit by a colleague with a misaimed hex.  OK, so it was a bit her fault that last one.  The guy had tried to kill the poor creature.  After the venom had been drained and the magical wound taken care of there had been all those potions she had to take because of the risk of infection.  Reptiles were not known to have the cleanest of mouths.

Bloody disgusting stuff.

Steepling her fingers in front of her, elbows sitting evening on her armrests, she considered all the man said. 

“You are far too kind,” she started, reflecting on what he said earlier, “we are not completely devoid of corruption here in the UK,” like Analiza Snark, or the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures.

“Rather disconcerting,” and that was putting it mildly, “to find out how international this problem is turning out to be.”  Sighing and taking another sip she added, “It looks like there may be more travelling in my future.” 

Now, as for the future, the cogs in her brain seemed to visibly turn behind her eyes.  “Who else has been made privy to this information?”  Knowing that would be the first step in figuring out a solution to this problem.

“You are far too kind. We are not completely devoid of corruption here in the UK.”

Ahmed knew that was so. He was not privy to internal affairs at COMC; but he had read a great deal about the goings-on at Hogwarts, with the Headmistress so openly persecuting her own students. And after all, one of the men he had overheard in Mumbai had clearly been British.

“I meant only to say that I had no evidence of corruption in British MLE,” he explained. “Of course that was before the Robards murder, but...well...Auror Eleor and I were first to arrive on the scene, and I do not believe Auror Spence was motivated by greed or hunger for power. It appeared to me as if she had been Imperiused...” 

“Rather disconcerting to find out how international this problem is turning out to be. It looks like there may be more travelling in my future.”

He nodded and sighed. It was looking the same way for him.

“Who else has been made privy to this information?”

“I told none of my Indian colleagues,” said Ahmed, “though I am certain that there is knowledge of this, in the higher levels of my Ministry. And they are certainly aware that I know, else why would they have wanted me dead?”

“Since arriving here,” he continued, “I have told only Tamis Raynor, Auror Eleor and Vlad Dragulia. Vlad was my mentor, when I first started out as an Auror...”

Nodding she tapped her fingers against one another, her eyes seeming to stare through the man before her. 

“Vlad is very wise about these things.  I need to speak with him anyway about another case,” the werewolf issues specifically.  Tamis too since her adventure with Fauna in the Forbidden Forest.  Topping off his beverage first before hers her attention focused back on the wizard’s eyes.

After a silent moment she sighed as her eyes turned downcast, back down at the paperwork.  Gingerly she unrolled the scrolls and flipped through the straight parchment, speed-reading the words on the pages, her eyes lightening up to an even paler blue as they flitted back and forth. 

“I wish I was with you to hear what you heard in Mumbai, I am somewhat familiar with the Arabic dialects of the area, or at least been able to record it so I could analyze it later.”  Taking a sip of tea she added, “I believe we should have a good sit-down together.”  Quietly she took out her notebook and began to make notes, her fingers pointing at the sentences she wanted to take down in shorthand.


[Sorry for the late reply, my brain has not been functioning as well as I would like.]

“Vlad is very wise about these things.  I need to speak with him anyway about another case...”

“He invited me to dinner,” said Ahmed. “To meet his daughter.” He smiled ruefully. Vlad was an inveterate matchmaker, however his attempts tended to be not just obvious, but...well...pathetic.

“He mentioned that Gabrielle is a friend of yours,” he added. “Perhaps we could make it a foursome?” That would be far less awkward than Vlad trying to set him and Gabrielle up, with the two of them sitting there twiddling their thumbs, looking anywhere but at each other...

“I wish I was with you to hear what you heard in Mumbai, I am somewhat familiar with the Arabic dialects of the area, or at least been able to record it so I could analyze it later. I believe we should have a good sit-down together.”

Ahmed sighed.  "That would be good. I wish someone besides me could have been there too..."

Then an idea occurred to him. “Perhaps...the Pensieve might be helpful?”