#barty~chat

She detested the ministry with a passion.  Walking along the cold floor made her almost nauseous, the clicking of her heels on the tile floor echoing in her ears.  The dull rumble of voices around her made her skin crawl.  She overheard snippets of mundane conversations about benign ministry business and barely suppressed an eyeroll.  There was a war going on, a fight for the very future of wizarding kind, and here she heard two people talk about what stationary to buy for the Department of Defense -- did they even write letters? 

She knew it must have been a bit hypocritical, acting that way about mundane affairs.  She was here on a mission regarding her latest event, the one she and Druella were supposed to be hosting together, and it seemed to fall on her shoulders to take care of any of the issues.  

What would the Black family do without her, she often wondered to herself.  

That was why she found herself marching her way into the minister’s offices, whomever the new minister was, in all of her pureblood haughtiness.  She burst through the doors, spotting the first line of defense in one Mr. Crouch Jr.  Wonderful.  The son of one of her least favorite ministry officials, now worming his own way into the government.  How lovely.  

“Mr. Crouch, I request an audience with the minister immediately.”  She pulled off her puffskein stole, draping it carefully across the back of one of the chairs.  “I would like to know straight from his mouth why my international floral arrangement was denied entry into the country.  I have exactly four days to finish planning my event and I did not intend to spend the day at the ministry trying to get flowers across the boarder.”