The silver of the moon was reflected perfectly in the beard of Albus Dumbledore as he strode casually down the empty street. A red phone booth stood midway, bearing a sign that read "out of service". A large barn owl, perched on top of a lamp post, watched with lamp like eyes as he stepped inside. Smoothing his purple robes, he picked up the receiver and peered down his crooked nose at the buttons on the keypad.
After a few moments a cool female voice spoke from the phone.
"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business to receive your badge."
"Albus Dumbledore; visiting." The elderly wizard said cheerfully. A green pin-on badge slid out of the coin return, reading what he had just said in thick purple letters. The booth shuddered and began to sink into the ground. The barn owl, startled by the sudden movement, took flight as he pinned the badge to the front of his robes.
The phone booth continued to move into the earth, revealing a very large lobby. A fountain with several statues in the center took up a very large g in bursts of green flame from one of the many fireplaces along the hall. Dumbledore walked very confidently down the center of them, and many stopped to gaze at him in wonder.
He reached the front desk, at which a very bored man in grey robes sat drumming his fingers on the desk. Catching sight of Dumbledore, he sat up straight and smoothed the front of his robes.
"Good to see you, Dumbledore! Always welcome here at the Ministry!" he said. The old man nodded, smiling, and continued on his way.
He reached the golden lifts at the end of the hall, stepping into one of which was already occupied.
"Ah, Arthur! So good to see you!" Dumbledore exclaimed, recognizing the lanky, red-haired man who stood looking over a few sheets of parchment. The man looked up in surprise, brightening instantly as he saw who it was.
"Dumbledore, excellent to see you as well!" Adjusting his papers, he reached out to shake his hand.
"How goes your report on...erm, sparkleplums was it?" Dumbledore asked politely.
"Sparkplugs, sir. It goes well, quite well. I just know that my superiors will take notice soon. I am very confident in my research." Arthur beamed.
"How are the twins doing?"
"Just turned three, little devils." Given poor Molly trouble up to her ears now that they can run around. Are you here to see Elizabeth then?"
"Indeed I am. It seems she has taken the liberty, unfortunately, to bring her own child to work." Dumbledore said. Arthur shook his head.
"Poor girl. Being Division's been giving her a time and a half since the child was born. And lately Walden's been bothering her too."
Arthur tacked the last piece of information on with a look of disgust. Dumbledore made a noise in his throat.
'Is that so? I sincerely hope the situation does not come to any more trouble than it has already. It would prove most unfortunate for all."
"I just can't believe the father left so quickly!" Arthur scowled. "Wasn't even there for her birth!"
The lift paused, and several flyers buzzed into the lift.
"I understand your anger, Arthur, but you must remember that he was only acting within his nature. He was not human, after all." Dumbledore countered gently. Arthur heaved a sigh.
"Still, the thought of leaving your wife and child and never coming back? It makes me ill. Doesn't he want to see how they're doing at least?"
"That is a question I do not know the answer to. Dragons are not known for their compassion, however."
The lift stopped, and the voice reeled off the floor level. Arthur reached for his hand once more.
"Well this is my stop. Have a good day, Dumbledore."
"And you as well, Arthur."
The ginger man stepped briskly off the lift, hurrying down the row of cubicles. The golden doors shut once more, and the lifts rumbled downward. Dumbledore hummed pleasantly to himself until it stopped again, and the cool female voice was heard once more.
"Level Three, Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes."
Elizabeth's cubicle was not hard to find among the cramped cubicles. A trail of smoke rose from it, and the sound of arguing grew louder as he approached.
"Macnair, I have asked you very nicely to leave. I am trying to work." came the voice of a rather pretty blonde woman sitting in a rickety chair. The source of the smoke came from the end of her turquoise robes, near which the most interesting child sat sniffling.