Disappointment, for letting Dreogan's own brother take a fall for him, loomed over Azize like a trailing cloud. How everything occurred right outside the Ministry, where muggles were. How the assassination attempt turned into a spectacle for them, how he managed to miss everything. How they had to stay and wait for the Healers to arrive because Adon was poisoned with Runespoor venom, not Azize. A few minutes, a few spared moments, and he could have been there to help--he should have known.

Now there was a ridiculous mess, cover up stories flying around, a strain on the obliviators that still seemed to be out and running the town, all the damage control--chaos hardly seemed an appropriate summation of it all.

As he stared down Tamis' door, it breathed as an ominous passage for him that day, rather than the natural challenge or bridge to a delightful relationship he usually viewed it as. He took a breath and sheltered his hand around the handle, as he took his free hand in a fist and gave a few hard drums  against the door. Without waiting for a reply or acknowledgment he pressed open the door, and took a step in, pausing to regard Tamis. He was hardly battle-worn like the other participants at the scene, but his features carried the same weight of their responsibilities.

 "An explanation, on my art, I'm sure is expected," his voice carried heavily, but with care and gentility as he regarded the Head Auror, "And that a better means of communication and cooperation may be needed."

“The Aurors remain in complete cooperation with the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes,” Head Auror Tamis Raynor once again reassured her fireplace. The orange glow of the flames reflected on the petite woman’s face as she sat with her back to the rest of her office. The tightly shut door made the space feel darker and more claustrophobic than usual. The bodiless head of the Head of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes continued to float in her fireplace for a conference session that had lasted long enough to try Raynor’s patience. It was now to the point of redundancy.  “We will collaborate with the Muggle Worthy Excuse Committee as necessary,” she continued barely keeping the sigh out of her voice. “Upholding the Statue of Secrecy is a universal goal of the Ministry.”

One would think that Adon Eleor and Jonas Trevelyan had shouted to the world “We are Wizards! Our Government Headquarters is right below your feet. Come and try to burn us all at the stake” for how seriously the other Department Head was treating the mishap. It was redirected frustration, the Auror knew, for while she had an Auror down and plenty of paperwork herself to fill out, Catastrophes was still slaving to control the Werewolf Incident that had occurred not four days prior. Having to clean up after Magical Law Enforcement was definitely not the cherry on the cauldron cake.

Quite unexpectedly, a knock rapped on her door and a moment later it opened. The Aurors who would risk entering the Head Aurors office while the door was closed normally did not bother to knock. Shifting in her chair, Raynor turned to regard the newcomer, both surprised to see the towering dark form Azize Mulogo and… not.

“Perhaps we can continue this discussion after lunch?” Tamis told the fireplace in a not-question without deviating her gaze from Mulogo . The floating head’s face scrunched up in displeasure, but after a moment it was gone. Raynor turned to face the diplomat more fully, one eyebrow patiently quirked.

She stared at him for a long moment after he spoke, both processing the African’s unique control of the English Language and the intent behind the words. Finally she gestured to the seat across from hers, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms, “You have been more than compliant with this Investigation, Mr. Mulogo,” she replied, running with the professional air to the start of the conversation.

Azize regarded the sour head in the fireplace, and then Tamis' concentrated attention on him, controlled and professional between him and the bobbing head in the fireplace. It was an expression he often tried to break after she had a trying day at work, mostly to his amusement, but Azize was hardly in the mood for that today. An assassin had been caught, a step forward gained in the case, but the Ministry was the sacrifice, taking too many hits for progress. The head in the fireplace recoiled back into the flames, and the African held his arms behind the back, holding his gaze with the Head Auror and respecting the silence between them.

He nodded and moved to maneuver himself within the seat, lacing his thick fingers together and positioning his elbows on the arms of the chair, as he regarded the Head Auror's' response to him. For Azize, there felt like there had to be more to it, that more needed to be done.

"But what happened in front of the Ministry, there must have been some way to keep an eye on them," he folded his hands out earnestly, "to stay in touch, to be able to permit something like that to happen--" his accent tinge and slurred to his quandry,  "there must have been a way to prevent it."

He regained some control over his slur, "Then the trading department," A problematic system, something that Azize thought he should be able to fix, "How did we not see it, any of it?" But shouldering and solving the problems of nundus with a task force was different than one with illegal smuggling, that Azize knew, but for every fix there was there were many more problems and hindrances that always cropped up in its place, "There must be a broken system somewhere that someone's hiding behind in that department, that no one is looking at, or talking about." He leaned back in his chair, biting back defeat, it always came down to a breakdown of communication between people, that's where problems always began, so it had to be somewhere  within his political reach.

The man sitting in front of her was a diplomat, Tamis Raynor reminded herself.  A very large diplomat – but a diplomat. The world could be a much more simplistic yet complicated place in the eyes of a politician. They dealt in the shades of gray of government and tried to convince themselves they were dealing with black and white. She had as much respect for Azize Mulogo as she allowed for a quill-pusher by trade and she had to admit, his question hit straight to the heart of the problem. Regrettably, the fix was not so simple.

“The system is always broken, Mr. Mulogo,” she replied with a good natured smirk in the face of a very serious discussion, albeit a grimly humored one. “Functionally dysfunctional. It keeps any one person from grasping at too much power.” That was not what he meant and she knew it. But it was a very British way to defuse the situation. Sobering some she added, “I have no doubt there is mole somewhere in your department. We have already discovered one,” Trevor Reid was due to stand trial sometime in the near future, “And where there is one there are sure to be others. But actively hunting for it is not going to help us catch it – just make it harder.”

There was much she could not tell him. Their theories about governmental conspiracy and corruption, not without making the man a much larger target than he had already willingly turned himself into. So she picked her words with care. “Known Runespoor Smuggling operations in the United Kingdom are at least two decades old, Mr. Mulogo. And that is only what we know. This is a multi-headed serpent – both literally and figuratively,” she smirked again.

 It faded, “It was a risky endeavor from the beginning, and we all knew that. An Auror’s job is a life-threatening one, Auror Eleor would have preferred to become a casualty rather than have you become one.” She did not know if that was actually true. Runespoor Venom was nasty stuff and she was sure Eleor was cursing every name he could think of at the moment, but she pushed that from her mind. “The important thing is that we got results.”

In what was a rather pressing question Raynor responded in a very detracting manner and the African wizard bowed his head towards his lap with a scoff of defeat.

"Little cheats?" he, raised his head with a smile and gave shook his head, "don't count," he lifted a palm and gave it a terse wave. It was something Azize did every now and then, but he was aware that 'cheating' could turn into 'corruption' all too easily, "Just when they get big."

"Makes me realize how young I am, and the age..." his eyes critically focused on the desk, before returning a grave gaze to Raynor's face, "of exploitation."

Onto the topic of Adon Eleor, it didn't make Azize feel completely better. He was aware that putting one's life at risk came with the job of an auror, but he didn't think Adon went with the sole intent of being a sacrifice, the man seemed more like a person who'd fight to live. "So I am just a target until we get more results?" he shrugged his shoulders back and restrained his doubt, "How long can we manage that?"

The African quickly realized that Tamis was using a very good technique: elaborating on other bits of information and withholding others, a necessary tactic when secrets needed to be kept, of course he didn't ask any specific questions to get specific answers, but it wasn't necessary among those who knew the trick. Azize continued after a pause, "I expect to be in the loop enough to know when I need a hand," He knew he could take her advice, a strong suggestion, he could question it to the fullest. He had his own career and he wasn't an auror, but he had respect for the woman sitting across from him. So, with a level expression and a tone of acceptance and pride he added, "Even if I don't know what I'm holding."