Jenna tapped the corner of the file folder against her desk idly in time with a ticking sound that could have been a clock. The sound was actually the clicking of her raven's claw against the perch he insisted on having above the door frame. She'd tried several times to move it to a more ascetically pleasing location, or anywhere not hovering over the door, but he could be quite insistent. To this day he had never dropped anything unseemly on a visitor to Jenna's office on the upper floor of the James Library and Wizarding Research Institute, so she let him have his way.
Normally the woman would control herself so as not to betray such a nervous gesture, but her mind was elsewhere. Hopefully her appointment would show up. She had extended a genuine if not ambiguous invitation to a young would-be political upstart. The girl had been a Gryffindor, no surprise there, and according to her records had an unusual circumstance which explained the vehemence of her beliefs. All this information and more she had in a file, like so many of the other files under Jenna's guardianship. It was sometimes surprising the amount of information a person could get ahold of while plugged into the various social circuits Jenna made sure she maintained.
There was a knock on the door, followed by a small object on one of Jenna's many shelves coming to life- it looked like an ancient muggle top except it gave off an annoying 'whir' noise. It was the second in a row of similar objects. Jenna lifted an eyebrow and waited for the impending boom.
A moment later the walls shook briefly and a buzzer on her desk sounded with Susan Bones' harassed voice, "An explosion has gone off in the muggle section . . . again." "Yes, I'm aware. Call the repair team." Her voice was resigned, almost bored. "And send whomever it is in." The group of charms experts were constantly in the second floor of the James Library repairing the controversial 'muggle' section of books after yet another malicious, childish attempt to rid the library of it.
Despite the fact that she was awaiting a visitor, Jenna kept her wand at the ready under her desk. Just in case. Over the years she had grown a trifle paranoid given the never-ending attempts by children to maim the library, by Death Eathers feeling entitled to certain advantageous discoveries and trinkets breaking and thieving, by members of the James Library Board of Directors who wanted to take control of the place for themselves try to sabotage her at every turn. And not the least by her own mounting worry about the information she continuously hoarded about all and sundry. Information was powerful, as she had once believed; but it was also dangerous. Her dark blue eyes were steady on the doorframe, the hand with the file now still on her desk.