"Don't start sliding anything under anything," Ernest said curtly, as he snatched up the paper and unfolded it. He had no intention of letting the man do anything at all until he'd figured out what he was doing here in the first place — and, truth be told, the curtness of his manner won him no favors. Even if he had a very legitimate reason to be here, Ernest was more inclined to send him packing at the moment, even if it was only to go sit around the Ministry and wait for Ernest to bring the item back himself.
The piece of paper was certainly a very good forgery, but a forgery it was. Ernest had to work with departments all over the Ministry (much as he disdained doing so), and he had never heard of the Department of Rare Magical Artifacts. Even so, he might have been inclined to believe that it did exist, since the Ministry was large and overly bureaucratic by nature, were it not for his involvement in the events of the summer of 1888. The magical fog that had begun in Irvingly and crept through England, devouring magic, had been caused by a rare magical artifact, and no one from this supposed department had stepped up to handle it. Even after the problem had been identified, it was investigators and aurors accompanying the thing back to Egypt. Department of Rare Magical Artifacts, indeed.
"I have a few questions for you, Mr. Fox, regarding this permit," he said with a threatening glower, his wand still drawn as he stuffed the paper into the pocket of his robe. "Though perhaps you would be more comfortable answering them from the Ministry holding cells, with an auror present."
The piece of paper was certainly a very good forgery, but a forgery it was. Ernest had to work with departments all over the Ministry (much as he disdained doing so), and he had never heard of the Department of Rare Magical Artifacts. Even so, he might have been inclined to believe that it did exist, since the Ministry was large and overly bureaucratic by nature, were it not for his involvement in the events of the summer of 1888. The magical fog that had begun in Irvingly and crept through England, devouring magic, had been caused by a rare magical artifact, and no one from this supposed department had stepped up to handle it. Even after the problem had been identified, it was investigators and aurors accompanying the thing back to Egypt. Department of Rare Magical Artifacts, indeed.
"I have a few questions for you, Mr. Fox, regarding this permit," he said with a threatening glower, his wand still drawn as he stuffed the paper into the pocket of his robe. "Though perhaps you would be more comfortable answering them from the Ministry holding cells, with an auror present."