Dreogan Eleor and Adon Eleor had grown up being mistaken for one another. Today was not one of those days.

Their different temperments were markedly apparent as they entered Wagamama, with Azize Mulogo in tow. Dreogan, fretting and discomfited, was looking between Azize and Adon with apparent displeasure, his brow furrowed and his eyes anxious. Adon, on the other hand, walked with large, confident steps forward towards a table facing the door. A broad smile shining from his face, enlivening his eyes as he caught sight of Jonas Trevelyan. He was proud of himself. More than once, it had been remarked that arrogance on his features was particularly becoming.

There was, perhaps, no true reason to be proud. It had been a fortuitous, and  fortunate coincidence, perhaps attributable to some cosmic shift. Nevertheless, when Adon had gone to meet Dreogan at his office so they could travel to Wagaama together, they'd happened upon Azize. Who, it seemed out of some form of friendship with and concern for Dreogan, had engaged in conversation with the brothers.

Azize Mulogo, Dreogan's coworker, was over relations--politics, international trade, diplomacy--with Africa. Runespoors were native to Africa. Really, it was not difficult to piece together. Especially with the pieces falling together as they were. Adon had promptly invited Mr Mulogo to lunch. Mr Mulogo, indeed a very accomodating and pleasant sort of person, had heartily accepted.

"Jonas," he said, drawing Jonas' attention away from his iphone, "Mr Mulogo, I'd like to introduce you to Mr Jonas Trevelyan, a coworker and good friend of mine. Jonas, this is Mr Azize Mulogo, a coworker of Dreogan's." He paused, the smirk growing confident. "He is the Head of African Relations for the Department of International Magical Cooperation."

Jonas had managed to put off meeting with the Eleors for a full forty-eight hours after getting back to London.  The question of whether or not he'd be continuing on as a private consultant on the investigation had never been answered before the Head Auror had been put out of commission, and with all of the insanity with Tamis and Scotland, they hadn't ever really had a chance to wrap up after Trevor Reid's arrest. 

Now, he couldn't say whether his status was more or less uncertain than it had been a month before.  What was certain was the fact that he wanted more time to think.  Both brothers were uncannily good at noticing when one was avoiding discussing a particular topic, and Adon in particular was a savant at leaving just enough of a gap in conversation that Jonas felt inclined to fill it in spite of his better instincts.

He'd taken Monday just on principle to catch up on sleep, and he'd managed to convince Adon that he needed Tuesday to travel back up to Scotland to fetch his car.  But Wednesday was as far as the Auror had let him push the meeting.  After Jonas had gotten away with not visiting Aberdeen Spencer for two weeks, Adon had become very firm in setting deadlines.

He glanced up at the sound of his name, quickly canceling out of his divine assault on the primitive islanders, his eyes flickering quickly over the three figures who had joined him.  A newcomer - Mulogo, a name he didn't recognize.  Adon, beaming and looking as if he'd just been given a second Christmas.  And a worried Dreogan, which unfortunately had been the mage's default expression since the events of the fifth of January had taken so much of the vinegar out of him.

They hadn't been expecting company.  Something was amiss.

Jonas levered himself carefully to his feet, extending a hand to the diplomat.  "Pleasure," he said cheerfully, flashing the man a lopsided smile.  He took him in quickly, glancing over him, as he judged the man's grip.  The Head of African Relations.  Either they'd gotten a new break in the case or someone important had gotten upset.  Based on the evidence, he could hardly be certain which it was; Adon would smirk over either.

"Quite a job title, that," he quipped, giving Mulogo an easy smile as he resumed his place at the table, motioning for the other men to sit.  "What brings you to our luncheon?  I'm sure it's not because Houdini has been raving over the cuisine."

Normally, Azize liked to be at the top of any social situation, but today he was at a disadvantage.

His friend, Dreogan had been acting distant and jumpy for a whole month, and had been absent from work for about a week, and then there was the whole thing with Trevor Reid before that, which shed more light on the affairs plaguing the DoIMC than Azize would have felt comfortable with—whether it had been from the assistance of a pyro-happy auror or not.

But, despite his adapted annoyance for Adon Eleor from Gabrielle he kept his face calm and collected, and content upon seeing his friend, again. And safe.

Shame also knocked the African down another peg, he couldn’t help but presume that his concern stemming beyond that for his friend was extremely obvious, and that his being nosy wouldn’t be received well. But it was, and Adon seemed ever the more smug for it.

Knocked down another peg for slight confusion.

Finally, what did it in was going to London. Muggle London. If it was for the sake of secrecy, it was ingenious, but the African pureblood was ever self-conscious and unsure of how to act or how exactly muggles were receiving him. He kept himself distant with formality, drew a few stares, and made a note that his attire might be giving himself away. The fact that he was mostly catching the flirtatious stares of females, seemed to escape him that day.
He followed the etiquette of Adon, who seemed more collected than Dreogan, until they entered the muggle food establishment, Wagamama. It must be the word for a mother who cooks well, or who cooks noodles, Azize noted to himself. Then the introductions.

"Jonas," he said, drawing Jonas' attention away from his iphone, "Mr Mulogo, I'd like to introduce you to Mr Jonas Trevelyan, a coworker and good friend of mine. Jonas, this is Mr Azize Mulogo, a coworker of Dreogan's." He paused, the smirk growing confident.

Azize looked over Trevelyan, and his strange device, and then gave him a pleasant smile and a short nod, then took a moment to consider Adon’s growing excitement.

"He is the Head of African Relations for the Department of International Magical Cooperation."

The African shifted his gaze towards Adon and then his mouth twitched into an understanding smile. Of course, this was why he was so welcomed to the meeting.

"Quite a job title, that," he quipped, giving Mulogo an easy smile as he resumed his place at the table, motioning for the other men to sit.  "What brings you to our luncheon?  I'm sure it's not because Houdini has been raving over the cuisine."

“He failed to even name the place,” he smiled, offering a hand to Jonas before lowering himself into a chair, “The whole arrest was quite alarming,” he admitted, looking at Dreogan, “And with Dreogan’s absence added to it, along with his general distance, as of late, I have been worried,” he chuckled, slurring over his softer consonants.

He took a moment to look around the restaurant then, raising a brow at the people coming and going and currently seated. It was a sort of calm paranoia to the Ministry wizard, but even though he was out of his element, he couldn’t help but feel calm at how utterly oblivious the muggles around them were.

“Perhaps, next time, something like this happens, Merlin forbid, it can be a bit less,” then a sticky white smile, “dramatic?”

“Dramatic?” Adon asked, craning his neck backwards in surprise before blowing air, in a great puff from his cheeks. “Pfff. That’s, well . . . that’s just –“ he waved his hand dismissively. “I specialise in dramatic entrances.” He gave Jonas a forbidding glance. This was a business meeting. And this time, there would be no Father Christmas garb. It was well past season.

Dree’s brows were knit in a particularly longsuffering manner as he regarded his younger brother. “Don’t encourage him, Azize,” he said, mildly. “He’s proud of it.” If possible, Dreogan grew a bit more distant at Azize’s next words, in reference to himself. He blushed, a bit ashamed, and looked down at his hands, picking at a hangnail on his thumb. He hadn’t quite expected Azize to be so . . . straightforward in his words, though he had no doubt they were genuine. There were other, easier ways to be genuine. ”Well, it’s good to have you here, of course. . .” Lie. Apparent lie. Dreogan enjoyed Azize’s company; probably more than any other within the department. He was, for the most part, discreet. And warm. And considerate. But he didn’t like the thought of what Jonas and Adon might do with him. They were looking at him as though he were a special delivery.

Adon shrugged away Dreogan’s comments and, more gravely, addressed Azize levelly, “There was a hostage situation and a lit fireplace ready for flooing. I thought it prudent to act quickly. Alternatives were dueling and risking the hostage or attempting negotiation and risking escape.” He added after a moment, “I believe the carpet’s been replaced by now anyhow, yeh?” Was Harker still harping about it? He only hoped Mulogo'd be more internationally cooperative than his coworkers.

"But let's sit down," Adon said, gesturing towards the commodious . . . wooden benches. He sat across from Jonas, clasping his hands together on the table. After a moment's deliberation, Dreogan seemed to settle for sitting next to his brother. "You obviously heard about the arrest. . . Know much about it?"

"And dramatic exits," Jonas put in cheerfully, flashing Adon a crooked grin as he waved off a server.  "Give us just a minute, yeah?  And just about every dramatic bit in the middle," he informed Mulogo amusedly, stretching his leg back out under the table.  "Helps us keep one up on the other side, though.  If we don't make a statement every now and again, they start thinking they can run roughshod 'round us, slinging three-headed snake venom all about.  Worth a bit of pyromania to prevent that, innit?"

As the other men arranged themselves on the benches, it gave him an opportunity to nonchalantly take their measure again.  Mulogo seemed uncomfortable; judging by his dress and demeanor, he probably didn't spend much time around Muggles.  That might be worth speaking to Adon about later.  In the future, if they wanted to put a potential source at ease, there were likely better places to do it than a restaurant where he'd feel out of place by nature.

Dreogan, to put it mildly, did not look happy.  But then, lately he rarely did.  Jonas regarded him for the barest of an instant before turning his attention back to Adon.  If the mage knew something that was worth sharing, he'd contribute it. 

He returned his attention to Adon, who was clearly still in his element.  The younger Auror had taken control of the conversation, easily sidestepping his brother.  After the incident with the possession, the encounter with Tawse, and the weeks they'd spent with on-and-off guard duty in Scotland, Jonas had a much easier time reading the Israeli.  Their sometimes tense cooperation from a month ago had evolved into a more natural give-and-take.

Adon clearly had a general idea of where he wanted to go with the conversation, and he got the ball rolling quickly.

"You obviously heard about the arrest. . . Know much about it?"

"Aside from the bit with the fire," Jonas put in, flashing the African wizard a smile.  If Eleor was business, he was friendly.  Give and take.  "Dramatic as that was, you've got to reckon that something like that would start a few rumors circling.  Have you heard much about what led up to it, Mr Mulogo?"

• ”Well, it’s good to have you here, of course. . .”

Adon hardly seemed to mean it, still showing signs of being uncomfortable, but Azize was prepared for whatever the meeting would bring, despite how disadvantageous the situation may be or was becoming, on his part. "It's better to stand together," he said with a deepening warmth, as he lowered himself into the chair with everyone else.

Something needed to get done and people needed to communicate, especially if something disrupting was lurking within the Ministry, and even if Azize had to put himself in a tight position.

• 
  “I believe the carpet’s been replaced by now anyhow, yeh?” Was Harker still harping about it? He only hoped Mulogo'd be more internationally cooperative than his coworkers.

Another smile from the dark-toned man, "I think the chances she might be working on a specific shielding charm to keep you out of the DoIMC," he continued in his lanky and low accent, "is completely plausible," her perked with a final quip, before  both Jonas and Adon moved onto business.

• "You obviously heard about the arrest. . . Know much about it?"

"As an observer, I have heard many things," He began, "but I could not tell you what was prudent or helpful, just bulks of passing gossip," he moved. Azize was not there to share gossip, and, without previously being involved, he couldn't say he'd know what to pick apart in a conversation.

"As far as papers go," he said slipping his hand into his blazor, "I did start digging, catching some inconsisties--had a hypothetical conversation of numbers with a goblin at Gringotts," his tone licked dryly as he procured a thin sleek black folder.

"There are a lot of holes," came the monotonous statement.

The folder was overly malleable and fairly steady considering the thick of contents inside of it, courtesy of a charm or two. He placed it on the table and he bridged his fingers together beneath his chin, trying to lace his features over with a bored curiosity so as to not attract interest.