helena sun / journalist / b. 1980
☾The name on the slip of parchment matched the bronze inscription listing all muggle liaison officers in the department but still, she read and reread the information given to her, just to make sure. Helena never enjoyed visiting the Ministry. Everything was so strenuous and far too monumental. It seemed as if over half the population of magical folk worked at the Ministry, and its colossal size seemed to reverberate this fact. It was always a matter of getting lost trying to find one person in a colony of tens of thousands.
Meandering through the maze of desks, Helena stopped at the one whose nameplate rivalled the one on her information sheet. Rian she read, and was quick to assume that the officer would be of Irish origin. The only problem was that his desk was currently empty. Perhaps he had gone for a spot of lunch?
Helena chewed nervously on her lower lip. Perhaps she ought to wait here until he got back? She needed to retrieve some documents from him regarding a case she was writing about. Although Helena wasn't pressed for time, she figured that waiting more than twenty minutes would be a waste of her time. Still, she could sacrifice ten or so minutes. If he didn't show up, she'd just have to send an owl. It would have to do.
Taking a seat in the chair provided directly opposite his, Helena put down her bag and looked around the room. It looked like any old office from the Daily Prophet. She figured that anywhere you were, corporate life had a singular aesthetic.