Who: Minerva "Trouble" Shacklebolt and Wesley Krum What: A job offer Where: Wesley's office in the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures When: Monday, mid-morning Rating: Likely very low Status: Closed, incomplete
Everything in this country was cramped. The city was packed too tightly, Wesley's apartment was basically a closet with a bed and a hot plate, and his office was shoved off to the side with a cheap desk, a pair of folding chairs, and a coffee machine he'd bought on his second day. He at least had a window. A window that was currently showing a snowy forest scene, but that at least was something he'd asked for.
He didn't mind too much, though. It was all temporary, after all. The sooner he had this project done, the sooner he'd be moving on. That, of course, was no excuse to do haphazard work, and he had every intention of giving this project his full effort, but that didn't change the fact that it would end one day, and there was no point in getting overly comfortable.
Still, he liked to pace when he worked, and he often felt a bit caged in this small space. He'd worked out a path, though. File cabinet to window to door and back.
He was idly circling the room, flipping through a stapled stack of parchment covered in numbers and budgets and equations. Headache stuff.
His eye twitching, he tossed the stack onto his rickety desk and went to the coffee maker. Caffeine. Yes please.