The people who worked in the Department of Mysteries had one decided advantage over any other Ministry workers as far as he had been able to observe: They let each other have their mysteries. It had its disadvantages because he knew relatively little about those around him, and the less he knew, the less he was in control. On a more positive note, his own private life was no source of gossip. Not that he had ever done anything reprehensible, but without prior knowledge of his motivations, some might think ill of how he had treated his wife. Even Roz herself seemed to have some reservations, which was truly insulting though he didn’t care all that much what she thought. She certainly was enough in love with him so that he didn’t have to worry too much about her silly moods. In any case, he didn’t want anybody else to think about his relationship with his wife, and the Department of Mysteries was the one where he had to worry the least that he’d have to deal with such gossip. People here cared about their work, and most didn’t even seem to care for what had happened.

There was at least one member of the Department, namely the one who had been responsible for the trainees before him, who had died in the takeover. Maybe there had been more, but he didn’t know because nobody seemed to care. The Unspeakables were very reasonable. Everything was apolitical here, and that was an advantage in the long run. He might be working here now, but nobody could automatically conclude that it was out of support of the system. He wasn’t even sure for what system exactly he was working now that the Minister had changed last week. He also didn’t have any intention of learning too much about what was going on among the purebloods. They had their own closed circle with which he had nothing to do, and he therefore didn’t care at all whether the Ministry was in support of their class or fighting it. As long as he could profit from their fights or concord, he couldn’t care less. He was doing his job here as well as he could, and nobody could take offense at this.

“Mostly the trainees, but that’s enough work to be honest,” he replied, following Darby out of the lift. “Not in a bad way, mind you. It’s just very time consuming. When I was a trainee here, I was mostly working in the Time Room, and that got seriously damaged soon after I left. You were working here at the time, do I remember this correctly?” It was a pity and a waste. Time-turners were highly useful, and he had often regretted that he had never dared to steal one. It would have made so much so much simpler. He felt that he could list ad infinitum situations in which one could have been used to his advantage — for smuggling, for his company, for dealing with Roz. A time-turner could be used for anything. And only because he had thought it was too risky to remove one single little time-turner, he had deprived himself of this chance. He had been too cautious in his youth. Not that there was anything wrong with cautiousness, but from hindsight it was sometimes annoying. He usually didn’t spend too much pondering his mistakes, just enough to make sure that he remembered never to repeat them. And he wasn’t even entirely sure whether it had been a mistake. After all, security in the Department of Mysteries was very strict. He couldn’t guarantee that he would have managed to bring a time-turner safely in his possession. He’d just really love to have one… so many possibilities.

Maybe he should be glad they got all destroyed. He might do something stupid otherwise because it was just too practical. Luckily there were plenty of other rooms with less functionality to them. Not that the Death Chamber wasn’t among the most fascinating locations he knew, but there was no purpose for it in his life outside his job at the Ministry. And it was like that with many things here. They were almost shut off from the rest of the world — even from the rest of the Ministry. In the end, this was not the worst thing. He could be a part of the system, and still keep out of politics. Viewing things from this perspective, he really couldn’t complain. “You’re working on anything you can talk of?” he asked, returning his attention to his colleague while the walked towards the plain black door that was the entrance to their department.

On this day
we become legendary

❧

She had worked here for nearly her entire life. It was something that she had wanted to do from the start. Portia hadn’t been sure if she would enjoy it--there was no way of knowing something like that when you had no way of knowing what you were even getting into, but she had at least wanted to give it a shot. And now, she had been working in the department for thirty years. Nearly thirty-one at this point. She had been here for more administrations than she could count, and she had always stayed put. That was something that had never changed. Even when Voldemort had been in power, even when the Ministry had barely felt like the Ministry anymore, she had still stayed. She had just never been able to imagine leaving. Of course, it was easier to stay regardless of the Minister, in the Department of Mysteries. They were separate from the politics, separate from everything else happening in the rest of the Ministry. If she had been in any other job in the Ministry during Voldemort’s reign, she thought that she would have left. She didn’t think she would have been able to witness what was going on in the rest of the Ministry.

It had been hard enough to even pass what was going on in the courtrooms during that time. But she had been able to focus on her work and stay separate from all of that. It was what she was trying to do now. There was nothing really to witness happening in the Ministry, not like last time, but it was still difficult to be here when she knew what they were doing. When she knew what it looked like she was supporting, just by being here. But she wasn’t. She didn’t support what they were doing, she was just doing what she needed to do to keep her family safe… and to keep the dozens of Muggleborns hiding in Calais safe. Even if she had started to step back from the sanctuary, even though she had left smart people in charge in her stead, she still had thoughts that could get them into trouble if she wasn’t careful. She might think that her occlumency was more powerful than any Legilimens could hope to get by in this building, but she wasn’t going to take that risk. She wasn’t going to put a target on her back by leaving the Ministry.

There was no way of knowing if they were keeping tabs on people that did that. It would be a lot of people to watch, sure. She knew dozens that had left after the regime had changed from Durant to Wentzell, but maybe they had thought it worth keeping tabs on them. They were people that couldn’t stand to work for a Death Eater Minister. If they had thought that made them a threat, then they could have been watching and Portia hadn’t been able to afford that risk. Not then, and not now. Even if she’d stepped away, even if she was trusting the Slughorns and other people in the sanctuary to keep everything going, she still needed to make sure that it stayed protected. That meant going about her days like everything was still normal. It meant talking to Stroud even though she had no idea where his politics rest on the spectrum. It meant playing nice, no matter what.

“I was, yes. My focus has always been more in the brain room, but a lot of us had to help get the time room as… under control as possible, after that.” The time turners had been absolutely destroyed, of course, but there were other parts of the room that had still been salvageable, thankfully. Still, it had been a blow to the department and all of the Unspeakables whose projects focused on the time room had had their work cut out for them to try to recover from that. “I’m just in the research stages, actually.” She had never been one to talk about her projects before there was anything concrete to say--and even then, she didn’t trust that information to just anyone. Unspeakables were, after all, naturally secretive. Even from each other, at times. Sometimes they worked together, of course, but other times… well, she couldn’t say that she trusted all of her colleagues. “I tend to keep things under wraps until I get a bit further along. You understand, I’m sure.” He probably hadn’t been expecting her to answer him anyway. People weren’t particularly chatty in this department when it came to their work. Not unless they needed an unbiased opinion, or someone else’s perspective on something. That wasn’t something that she required when she was still only researching.

@ watson

[attr="class","cred"]MADE BY VEL OF WW + ADOX 2.0

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The Department of Mysteries seemed sometimes to be a place where time stood still. He didn’t mean this in the sense that there was no progress in what they did. The scientific research was always there, and this was it. No matter what happened in the upper floors, this Department continued more or less constantly with its work. No change in regime seemed able to disturb their work. It was a reassuring feeling that they had given him a job here of all places. It was prestigious enough that it made him content it was increasing his importance in the eyes of anyone he might come across, and yet, he was far away from seeming anyhow politically involved. And he was keeping away from having anything directly to do with those who were fighting for their place at the top. This was the fault of all those who thought they needed to be first. This might be satisfying for a little while, but in the long run, it wasn’t good for the nerves. He had settled for a place in the higher up middle — easy to ignore and still very comfortable.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t ambitious, that would be ridiculous. He simply didn’t see a point in craving power that would first and foremost make him enemies. He didn’t want to be crushed by the wheel of fortune by ascending higher than was reasonable. His desires were far more modest, just having the piles of money in his Gringotts account grow every month. Money was a secure value, and he took the greatest care to ensure that no misfortune could ever be big enough to take away all of it. He needed to keep his company flourishing, for there were times when everybody wanted to acquire property and the times where they were struggling — especially if they payed their employees too well or did not manage to sell a house at the highest price possible or buy a property for what it was worth. If someone wanted to survive in the market, any strategy was legitimate. After all, he had to think about his children’s future. One day, Arthur would take over, and Watson was afraid that the boy did not yet have the spirit necessary for running such a business. He’d get him there once he was out of school, though. No doubt about that.

Vi would hopefully just end up to be a copy of her mother with the advantage that she would be even more easy to manipulate. As for Roz, he’d have to hope that he wouldn’t recquire to have her get any medical treatment or a psychologist or such nonsense, once the Muggleborns would get compensation for their suffering. Then again, there’d certainly be a fund or something that would be installed for taking care of the traumas Muggleborns had suffered, so there was little reason to worry about that. Maybe he could even manage to redirect some of the money the Healers were supposed to get. That was an encouraging thought. Whatever happened, he’d surely find a way of making a profit out of it, and that was what this was all about. Roz might be a little stupid where money was concerned, but subconsciously even she would agree with him that it had been important to put their finances first. This was her money too, that should be a consolation. Ultimately, she’d get nicely payed for what was currently happening to her, and that was a reassuring thought.

“I can imagine,” he said. “It does look very different from how I remember it.” She had worked in the brain room… he really couldn’t say anymore whether he had ever had anything to do with her then. She had to have been very young too, so he supposed that she hadn’t been directly involved in training the Unspeakables. “The Hall of Prophecies too was apparently affected,” he added thoughtfully, for a moment caught in his memories. “An uncle of mine used to work there. He died a few months earlier though in an accident. Bode, you might remember him, he worked here for a long time.” And was keeping an eye on him, it had been very annoying. At least he had been on the other side of the ocean then and didn’t need to bother coming to the funeral. They weren’t even related by blood, so there was absolutely no reason why he should have come. His aunt had maybe been a little cross, but that didn’t matter much. She had almost nothing to bequeath anyway. “Of course,” he answered. “That’s how most of us handle it, isn’t it?” For an Unspeakable, she was even relatively open about her work. Back when he had started, he was sure the older employees had been even more secretive. Sometimes that had really gone on his nerves. As if they all thought they were saving the world or something by not uttering a sound.