Better think twice [Maryana)

Halvard was feeling very pleased with himself, having just returned from promising discussions with contacts in Spain.  Being a Diplomat suited the wizard well – he thrived on building connections and brokering deals – especially in the current political climate.  As the magical world began to divide itself based on the prominent views around blood status in each country, there was no way that Hal didn’t benefit.  Sympathisers to the low-born and muddy-blooded could be swayed to ally with Britain, advancing Hal’s career and influence within the Ministry.  Whilst on the other hand wherever he found opposition to the pathetically placating attitudes of the British, the ex- Death Eater was able to discretely forge relationships with people who shared his true vision for a pure earth. 

The only thing that could dampen Hal’s mood was unfortunately the general décor of his workplace.  The British Ministry facilities were staggeringly subpar when compared to most of their foreign counterparts.  The place could only seem grand to the most impoverished and ignorant of visitors.  It was as if the Brit’s didn’t care at all about the impression they made!  Economic downturn could be blamed for some of the shabbiness; however, he suspected a lot of it was just bad taste.  It was therefore a blessing that Hal could conduct so much of his work in more luxurious, foreign settings but still, it was sometimes necessary to make an appearance on native soil.   

The Selwyn heir particularly despised having to enter through the public areas, squashing himself shoulder-to-shoulder with the lower classes as they crowded into the shoddy lifts and then having to pass through the workspaces of his subordinates all just to reach his own office.  A lip curled in distaste as he observed the unwashed coffee cups, half-eaten food and crumpled parchment littering some of the messier desks within the main work area of his floor.  He looked on the other workers with barely concealed disdain, noting every hair out of place, every untucked shirt and scuffed set of shoes.  It frequently frustrated Hal that he was the only one who seemed to bring any class to their department.  One hand unconsciously moved to smooth down the front of his own impeccably tailored robes as he walked by.

His gaze then fell upon something in the room which was surprisingly not terrible to look at – a striking woman with warm brown hair.  Intrigued, Hal diverted his path to take him closer to where she was hovering over the desk of one of the junior employees.  Pretty she was, despite an expression of what he would guess was either concern or frustration marring her features.  He was willing to bet that she would be beautiful when she smiled.  As her voice drifted across the room, Hal thought he caught a hint of a foreign accent he recognised…  Russian?  To his delight, she turned her head in his direction briefly as though aware of his scrutiny.  When eyes the colour of burnt-caramel met his own cold blue ones, the Diplomat decided that he needed to meet this lovely creature. 

“Whatever seems to be the trouble here?”  Hal enquired casually as he approached and glanced at the papers which the junior was presently frowning over in a way that suggested the two single brain cells he possessed couldn’t quite make a connection.  It was immediately clear to Hal that it was some sort of visa matter.  Such a thing was well below Hal’s responsibilities but he was feeling generous today.  He turned to the woman with a wide ’lucky you’ smile.  “I can take care of that for you.”

As the young man already attending to her tried to stutter a protestation, Halvard leaned one hand on the desk in a casual yet looming posture which forced the occupant to bend his head at an awkward angle to look up at Hal.  “Andrew, Andrew…” he started mildly, his tone was light but his eyes were hard as he stared the other man down.  Although he kept his demeanour friendly, there was something vaguely threatening in his smile.  “I haven’t seen your latest report on our potions exports yet?  If it’s anything like your last report, I can’t wait to read it.”  It gave Hal great satisfaction to see the young man immediately flush red; whether it was because he was stupid enough to believe he’d received a genuine compliment or because he had the sense to feel embarrassed about the reminder of his poor work performance, Hal didn’t care.  “Let me take this off your hands.”  Without waiting for a response, Hal reached over and plucked the lady’s paperwork out of Andrew’s limp grip.

Turning his back on Andrew dismissively, Hal faced the woman and inclined his head politely towards her.  “Halvard Selwyn at your service, Miss,” a quick glance across the top of the paperwork told him what he needed to know, “Nikoaleva.”  He tucked the papers under one arm and treated her to another friendly smile.  “This way please.” Lightly placing a hand at the small of her back, Hal gently guided the Russian beauty towards his office. 

Once inside, plain walls were replaced by panels of wood and dark blue wallpaper.  The furnishings were not extravagant, yet were noticeably richer than those outside.  On the wall behind a large mahogany desk, several photographs were hung tastefully; displaying Hal with various foreign officials, politicians and prominent businessmen.  Halvard drew out a chair for Ms Nikoaleva and waited for her to be seated before he walked around to his own leather-upholstered chair.  Laying the papers down on the desk between them, he sat back and stretched cat-like before turning his attention back to his guest. 

“Well,” he spoke softly, not wanting to intimidate Maryana unnecessarily, “let me begin by offering my condolences for the incompetence you’ve had to suffer through so far.”  The gracious smile that followed his words implied that she would not have to fear any ineptitude with him.  It had been fortunate indeed that Hal had been around to step in!  “I’m sure a lady such as yourself has much better things to do with her time than chase up clerical errors.”  A long-fingered hand gestured contemptuously towards the paperwork in question.  Idly he began to rearrange it into a more efficient order while watching her face for the expression of gratitude he was surely owed.  “Although I do not regret having the pleasure of your company.”  He added flirtatiously, flashing his flawless white teeth again in yet another beaming smile.  Halvard was confident that the Russian witch would find him charming.  How could she not?

@Maryana Nikolaeva

Surely, this was all some big mistake! As much as she loved visiting Dante, and she would never complain to him about all the means she had to do to get to London and see him each time, this was more stress added to her already poorly executed morning. She'd been in and out of the country many times over the year. Why was it now that they suddenly pulled her aside and told her there was an issue with her visa? To make matters worse, she had been dropped off in a waiting room and was told to sit and wait for her name to be called. She was growing anxious and it was beginning to show in her reddening face and quick bouncy movements.

Time passed incredibly slow. When she couldn't sit any longer, she got up and quickly left to find a corner she could be alone and breathe. At first it came out in choppy sobs, but once she gained her composure and went back in, she went straight for the desk and asked if her name had been called. It hadn't. She was one of just a handful of people who had been waiting. All of them had come in and out after her. She looked down at the muggle watch and sighed in frustration. She'd been there nearly two hours with no contact with Dante and no word from any of the ministry workers to help her with her plight.

She insisted to the young man behind the desk to get someone to help her. With her heavy accent, broken English, and his inability to retrieve someone, she found her patience being pushed. Maryana was growing desperate. Instead of running into the mess of desks and crumbled papers to find someone for fear she'd be arrested, she slammed her papers down on the surface before her. "You tell what wrong!" At this point, her translation charm would have been of great use, but in her anxious frustration, the thought had left her mind long ago.

The young man feebly gave in and made an attempt to identify the problem. He tried to stammer out his excuse of being incapable of doing it, but she wasn't listening. Her gaze was floating over every face in this morbidly bleak room to find someone who would take pity on her and offer her more help that could get her on her way. Just at the time, her eyes landed on a handsome man who seemed to carry himself with much more importance and confidence than the rest of the workers. He was inspecting his own wardrobe and smoothing out his front. A supervisor? Maybe.....Someone who gets paid as much as him probably doesn't care for trifles like myself. If everyone here is too busy to help me, he must be incapacitated to worry about me.

Defeated, she turned back to the man at the desk. They were getting nowhere and she was ready to give in, find the nearest owlry, and write to Dante that she would not be able to see him today. "I do not understand problem!" Any anger and resentment in her voice now came out as an exasperated sigh. She just wanted to leave. "You work here. You should find it-" her gaze looked up again and this time, she noticed the finely dressed man was coming right for her. Another wave of panic ran through her. Was he going to tell her to sit down? Would he send her away? Would he help at all? Quickly she pulled her eyes away from him so as not to stare and she could mar her disappointment in the day. "I come long way and have many times...."

She looked up from her manicured nails at a second voice to find the one with the blue eyes standing over the other she had approached before. He wanted to help! She was stunned. Of course, she wasted no time in answering for herself where the young man could not. "They won't let me in. They brought me here and no one has helped. Two hours since I came." When he said he could help her, she wanted to soar with delight. Anya also feared that nothing would get done though. If the workers were as terrible as the first man, what was their boss like? At least, she assumed he was his boss. "Thank you," she felt herself sighing in relief as the situation was given to someone who appeared to know what he was doing. If anything, at least he was willing to help.

Anya was at first tense when he put his hand on her back. She didn't like men touching her, especially ones who seemed to have power and money. There was only one man in London whom she fully trusted, and he was the one she was trying to get to. Luckily for her, his hand quickly left her form once they had started in the right direction. She was careful to discretely keep some appropriate space between them while they made their way to his office.

When she stepped inside, she felt herself sigh in relief. As she looked around, she noticed the decorum had changed from that of the main area. It was much more professional and not as intimidating. Polished. Refined. She was quick to catch on that he was pulling a seat out for her. One hand held her purse to her stomach while the other carefully folded her skirt beneath her as she took her seat. One leg crossed over the other as she continued to look about at the photographs on the back of his wall. One of them was with him and the Russian minister. She didn't know much, but she could tell this many was very important.

As he spoke and her mind was able to clear up without the constant drowning sound of crumbled papers, mugs clanking, pens scratching, workers mumbling, and shoes padding on the ground with unbearable echoes with each sound. She could sense a minor headache now that it was quieter. Anya quickly recognized she wasn't understanding all of his words though and that was when she thought of the charm. She unveiled her wand from a pocket within her robes and used it on herself. Her throat and the veins that went up to her ears turned a light green before fading back to her normal skin tone with no sign od irritation. Now she could understand him as clear as a bell. She concealed her wand once more as she put her full attention back on him.

"It has been a very rough morning trying to get to London from Russia." She pushed a loose hair back behind her ear. "I've been here many times. I don't understand why now there's a problem with my visa. I think I was forgotten about here too. I've spent all of my afternoon here when I really need to get going to meet with someone." She wished she had a cup of tea now to help her calm down a little more. Anya sat rigidly in her chair too stressed to relax quite yet.

Then he made a comment that caused for her to raise an eyebrow. Was he flirting with her? How inappropriate! While she found his remark to be unprofessional, she decided to play along. He liked a pretty face. She liked for things to be completed promptly and effectively. She would play his game if it meant she got out faster.

Maryana offered him a small smile and a nod. "I'm certain the pleasure is all mine. You're the first to show they actually care about my dilemma. I'm certain you have much more important work to do, however. If you needed to pass me off to someone else, I understand. I just ask they be competent in their skills and have the ability to get positive results." Her hands folded in her lap as she glanced at the papers. "I cannot read English so I do not understand. Please, what is the error with my visa?" She felt she needed to be careful with this one. It wasn't just his "charming'" remark that set her off. Perhaps he reminded her too much of an abusive ex of hers. Whoever he was, she would play hos game. "Mr. Selwyn, what is it you've found? Will it take long?"