Who: Kevin Entwhistle and Sophie Roper When: Friday 20th October, afternoon Where: Ministry of Magic, London What: Shit's hit the bloody fan, innit? Also - yay, RTA! Rating: Low?
Of all of the things that Kevin wished for the moment he stepped into the elevator that afternoon, it was a drink that he felt like he needed the most. A strong one at that.
Wiping slightly sweaty palms against the front of his coat, he stared determinedly ahead at the numbers on the dial as they went up and down, left and right, until he they finally landed on Basement Level 1; why the elevator seemingly had to travel the entire building first, he didn't know, but he didn't ask either as he stepped out onto the marbled floor and made his way through the hallways to Roper's office.
He could count the number of times he'd been here on one hand. Kevin wasn't a seasoned reporter - and according to some he was barely even a reporter. He churned out fluff pieces, simpering profiles, petty gossip and scandalous kiss and tell stories that the senior reports fobbed off on him because he had a voice for it. This - and the Dementors - it was all new territory that he was happy to wander into if it meant people would take him more seriously. He just wished he had a better stomach for it.
As with any assistant's office, the door was ajar, but Kevin didn't step inside - he turned against it, and rapped his knuckles against the wood.
"It's Kevin. From the Prophet," he said, checking his watch. He was early for their agreed appointment, but there was no chance in hell he was hanging around in this ghost town of a building for any longer than necessary.