"It's marvelous." Kingsley said with a wry smile. It was, in a way, marvelous to be a trainee. But mostly because it was a steppingstone towards becoming what he really wanted to be!
Her next words brought him back to the mental images of those crime scenes he'd rather not entertain in his head. He had to, but that didn't mean he'd have to like it.
"We'll all be glad, except the culprits. They will be very very sorry," or dead, Kingsley had no preference there to be honest "and have plenty of time to consider their actions in the decades they'll spend in Azkaban." Preferably in the immediate vicinity of Dementors, so they could feel exactly how it was to lose everything that was dear to you.
Kingsley unclenched his jaws and forced himself to relax. He really was far more frustrated ... and pissed off, than he wanted to admit to himself. Perhaps it was better to change the subject a little.
"They're making you do slave labour too at Mungo's? There are days where I wonder whether the tasks I'm given are to improve my skills in that particular field or if it's simply so my senior Auror won't have to do it then. Especially research and paper work." Kingsley chuckled lightly and took a sip of tea. He'd fully understand that sentiment, even if he didn't really approve of it.