The Department of Magical Law Enforcement. His father would have much preferred him to go into the Ministry than curse-breaking, and he supposed Brannon had been able to forgive the man's Scottishness when he was employed in such a secure, esteemed department.

"The West Indies are... terrible," he admitted sheepishly, "I'd almost rather be stuck behind an office desk. What kind of work do you do in your department?" Hopefully not stuffy paperwork; it would make it much harder to relate to him.

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