 Alicia / Lysander Bathes in Maple Syrup | Dancing Lobster | Moy Pomidor | Seneca's Beard | That Is So Fetch!
Nikolaos had decided somewhere around the third form, second signature, and first person telling him he needed to take a document back to the department he'd just come from that the British Ministry of Magic was not particularly interested in efficiency.
The international documentation had been tedious enough. Necessary, apparently, but tedious. Then there had been the last-minute stop by Games & Sports to sort out yet more paperwork, which had somehow involved enough parchment to make him wonder whether the Ministry had a personal vendetta against trees. At this rate, they were going to decimate an entire forest just to document that he'd been there.
By the time Nikolaos stepped into the telephone box that would return him to Muggle London, his opinion of the place had been firmly established: not impressed.
He shifted as the booth began its ascent, watching the Ministry disappear below him. He'd dealt with enough magical bureaucracy back home to know that paperwork was unavoidable, but this place seemed to have elevated it to an art form. An especially dull art form.
Eventually, daylight filtered through the grimy glass and the telephone box settled back into place at street level. After what felt like hours spent underground, the insolation striking the surface was stifling.
"Thank you for visiting. The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant day," a woman's voice sounded coolly.
Nikolaos paused with his hand already reaching for the door. His gaze shifted slowly toward the telephone receiver. Now you wish me a pleasant day?
"Yeah. You too," he muttered in Greek with all the sincerity of a man who had spent far too much of said day filling out forms. With a roll of his eyes, he pushed the door open and stepped forward.
The traffic and noise outside felt considerably more pleasant than his entire experience at the Ministry.
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