Jacob slipped into a half full lift just before the grill closed. That was a close one. He took a slow sip of the burning Earl Grey, the only calm aspect of his day so far. An interdepartmental memo fluttured just above his head, and Jacob swatted it away. As if to punish him for the whack, two more came to fill in its space.

Jacob closed his eyes and shrunk down to avoid the flying paper, listening closely for Level Five, Department of International Magical Cooperation. He couldn't wait to get off the lift.