Merlin had to be fucking kidding her. Stubby Boardman, a murderer? Please! The guy may have mastered the stone-cold bitch face, but for God’s sakes, murdering people in such gruesome ways would spoiled his favorite and so very expensive shirt. She’d read the recent critics about how the Aurors were failing the magical community by handling the “Shadow-murderer” case in an utterly non-effective way – at the time she didn’t care, but now she might start to believe that the Gazette was more than a rag or nonsense.

Stubby Boardman a murderer, that was a nonsense! Defamatory, to say the least. To Jules, well the arrestation of her lead singnr was more that just a pain the ass; to best describe the situation let’s picture for a moment a volcano erupting in the middle of London, then all the buildings catching fire, the planet burning and the whole damn universe exploding or something along those lines. Oh, and she had to prevent any of this from happening, or at least contained the crisis as much as practicable. And of course, the misogynistic leaders of the Label were happy to leave her deal with this on her own, and watch her burn without lifting one of their fatty fingers. They were constantly looking for reasons to support their deep belief that women were not meant for greatness. Those assholes…as if she didn’t have enough on her shoulders.

Needless to say, she sprinted to the Ministry of Magic as soon as she made sure that none of the other kids under her supervision would say a word to the Press – legends would say she locked them up in a broom closet with impedimentas and silencios. Legends would also say that she almost crucified Machiavel when he took his sweet sweet time testing her wand while knowing perfectly who she was. That last part would be accurate.

In true Jules-fashion, she made it to the Auror’s wing, ignored the protests of the floor secretary about the latina witch not-having an appointment and her treaths about calling security. She had more important dragons to deal with. The artists manager took a second to breath deeply, straightened her posture and put a somewhat calm but firm expression on her face; then she knocked on the door of the Lead Auror and proceeded to enter without waiting for an answer.

Flores approached the man and held out her hand for a firm handshake, “Hello Mr. Walsh – she had seen his name on the door – I am Jules Flores, manager of the Croques-Mitaines and representative of Mr. Boardman.” Well that last part was not entirely accurate as she was no lawyer, but she was almost positive that some obscure clause in her contract with the musicians allowed her to make representations on their behalf… plus, you know, end-of-the-World-situation requires it. “I would like to discuss his arrestation and incarceration with you, starting by reviewing the arrest warrant issued against my client and supporting grounds for his arrests. Please enlights me.”.

Jules felt a kick of power and confidence radiating through her, which reminded her why she was born to handle crisis and loved the thrill of it, although she should not take pleasure in that one particular crisis. She should also not take pleasure in the sight of Mr. Lead Auror Walsh who was quite soft on the eye if someone asked. If she didn’t know better, she would appreciate the option of attempting to corrupt him into dropping the charges, but she was a professional.

Dexter was facing a complicated month. Correction, a complicated year. It was pretty much the usual situation for an Auror, and difficulties were part of the job. But the fact was that he was now in charge of new responsibilities, and that was considerably game-changing. Raven Fawkes was missing, and despite the sadness behind that fact, the Ministry had to find someone to step into her shoes. Naturally, Dexter had been chosen, and while that was a huge proof of confidence, the powerful wizard was so far out of his comfort zone that falling asleep was harder these days. The murderer outside was driving the whole community crazy, and people were waiting for answers. It was perfectly legitimate behavior, and Dexter was one of the Aurors most involved in the case. But now that he was behind a desk, not on the streets, sneaking around and trying to find a clue or two, the task seemed much more difficult.

That morning, after an arduous process, the Ministry took the necessary but painful decision to incarcerate some suspects and witnesses. The people did not agree. The same people who were angry at them for not making a decision. Fortunately, none of the Gazette diggers had any information on the names of the suspects, but Dexter knew that time was against them. They had to proceed quickly, efficiently, and if only he was in charge of one of the depositions, at least he would be sure that one of them would go perfectly. But no, he had orders. The situation was so delicate that Mr. Lyptus expected him to deal with the consequences, not be part of the cause. Excellent. Behind this desk, which wasn't even his, Dexter was so nervous that his fingers were tapping the wood while his other hand was busy writing on one of the many papers he had to check. Paperwork wasn't a problem, never had been, but right now his mind was so focused on what could go wrong in one of the interrogation rooms that he was very, very slow. Even slower than Cecil when he was drawing one of those stupid things instead of working properly.

His grey eyes were reading the same sentence for the third time when suddenly the door to his office opened on a very stern-looking young witch, only a second after he heard the sound of her fist hitting the door. How rude ! Sighing, Dexter looked up at her, adopting a very formal and serious posture in his chair. How incompetent was the secretary to not even know how to stop a woman alone? It was so typical of how out of control things were here that Dexter felt an intense fatigue. If it had been a Death Eater instead of this nervous lady, he'd be dead already. Him, and half the floor. The security was hopelessly bad, he had to admit. Extremely uncomfortable, Dexter dealt with the situation as best he could, doing what he was good at : being very still and quiet. The woman knew him, but it wasn’t mutual and he didn't like it. Fortunately, she wasn't as rude as he thought and introduced herself quickly. Okay, that was predictable. In fact, Dexter didn't really agree with the choice to arrest Stubby Boardman, not only because the evidence was very, very questionable, but because as a public figure, scandal would soon be running through them like a croup on a garden gnome. Scandal, or an angry manager. But orders were orders. « Miss Flores, do you have an appoint… » Purely rhetorical, he knew she didn't have one. But she didn't let him finish his sentence - so rude, again - and started talking big. OK, so let the unpleasant conversation begin. « Have a seat, please. » he began, with his very formal attitude and a hand gesture to invite her to obey. He didn't like not being on the same level as the person he had to talk to, for a matter of height of course. « I must say that I am not really in a good mood to answer you, since you have not respected our procedure. But now that you're here, I suppose I have no choice but to answer your questions. » As always, Dexter was honest, regardless of the consequences. But he was pretty pissed, so at least he was explaining why. « And maybe if you'd waited quietly, I could have shown you the arrest warrant you're asking for. » Despite all the papers on his desk, Dexter wasn't the department's archives after all. « I can assure you that Mr. Boardman's arrest is perfectly legal. But perhaps a lawyer would have confirmed it for you if only you'd contacted one before running into my office as if you were one. » His voice was clear and a little annoyed. Dexter wasn't good at talking to people, that was a fact. He was an investigator, a fighter. And he was much better with his wand than he was with any words in the world.