She was late for work, considering she might just skip it entirely, if Ambrose hadn’t been on her ass about a missing translation. It was for a team of curse breakers that encountered a sealed monument on the island of Crete. She’d taken one look at the Greek runes and tossed the parchment into her bottom drawer face-down. That was three weeks ago. Hermione flooed to the Ministry anyway, holding her coffee lid tightly to make sure not a single precious drop was spilled as she whipped through the network. Given her tardiness, much of the entryway had emptied out already, except for a few spare visitors or stragglers making their way to their departments. She took one look at the Greek translation and spent the remainder of her morning trying to find a better hiding place for the packet of runes than the bottom drawer of her desk. 