Alfred was on a mission to figure out what the status of the Voyager was. He'd been able to furlough the crew when the Ministry swept in, which was good in that he didn't have to keep paying them to just lurk around in port waiting for the word to leave. Men who weren't being paid, however, were only likely to stick around so long, and he felt he was approaching the upper limit of that time frame with each passing day. Merlin knew that the Ministry hadn't been exactly forthcoming with any of the details, and it was impossible to talk to anyone at Ministry headquarters. No one knew anything. No one knew who to talk to. Everyone had a different idea about what piece of inane paperwork he ought to fill out and which office to leave it with in order to hopefully get a response back.

Today he was going straight to the source: the actual cursebreaking team, whoever they were. No one had given him a clear answer on what department they actually worked for, but regardless he knew where to find them: his ship. And if he walked on board and he didn't find them, he might be angry enough to just set sail the next day out of spite, cursed or not. If he did find them, he was ready to raise hell until he got some answers about this whole situation, because somebody had to know something.

Upon arriving he spotted a set of Ministry robes immediately, and he walked straight towards her. He didn't realize that this was a familiar Ministry figure until she spoke.

Oh. Shit.

He stopped short, but resolved quickly that he wasn't going to let the fact that it was Zelda here deter him from getting his answers. Magical Britain was a lot smaller than he thought, he supposed, because she kept popping up any time he wasn't inclined to want to see her, and he was going to have to get over it sooner or later. She wasn't going anywhere.

"If you say so," he responded, sticking his hands in his pockets. "But I own it, so. I'm staying."