Marnie felt rather bad. She'd been so preoccupied with her brother-in-law being horrifically killed that she had barely paid attention to who else in the Ministry had suffered through the tragic accident that everyone had gone through. Perhaps she only felt bad because she was extremely pregnant and even the colour of the walls had a tendency to make her cry if the time of day was just right ... but we'll leave that idea alone.

She'd picked up some pastries (because she'd been burning all of the ones she tried to cook lately due to an inability to get the door of the oven open on time with her large belly) and then headed over to Amery's office, walking down the familiar corridors.

She peeked her head in, wondering if Amery had gotten a replacement secretary just yet.

"...hellooooooo?"

Marnie didn't spend all of her time being a self-absorbed ballerina despite popular opinion. She'd heard that Amelia was in the hospital, and while she was fairly certain that the woman didn't like her much, she was still a bit unsure about Berk. Which meant, of course, that bringing him cookies would be the perfect opportunity to sway him over to the 'support Rosemarne' side of things and convince his wife of the same.

Thus it was that she wandered into the Ministry, a round Halloween-themed cookie tin clutched firmly in her hands. She peered around the unit she imagined Berk was working in (since it was where Mycroft worked, too), hoping to spot him.

Harder than it looked, apparently! She huffed, steeling her determination to find Berk and deliver his cookies.

Damnit.

Okay, for how calm he was over the journal to Marnie, Mycroft was pretty worried about this whole marriage quiz thing. He's been expecting something like it, so he'd come up with a plan. Multiple plans actually, but this one to begin with. Marnie coming back had certainly been a problem, Mycroft had thought it would be a short term thing, where whomever he married would just leave, but well, he couldn't think about that, he'd focus on what they had to get done. Except that Marnie was not here, she had other plans, and really, what was that all about? Mycroft seriously did not want to get into that train of thought, so he started reciting the fact pattern over and over again in his head, while throwing a tennis ball in the air as he laid back on his couch.

Of course he knew everything about Marnie that the ministry had, he had a copy of her file laying in front of him on the coffee table (he hadn't been stupid about getting married to some random woman) but there were bits missing, like about Marnie's childhood, her favorite foods, things that a file couldn't fill in. But he could make sure he knew at least ninety percent of things. That was all that mattered, getting to ninety. There were other plans, that Mycroft would set up - he just hoped that whatever room they were interviewed in, it didn't negate portkeys.

She was going to go to jail.

Whatever Estella tried to tell her about maybe being able to find out the questions beforehand and passing that way had not but Marnie at ease. What was worse was that she had to meet with that fellow from the Ministry and she was -- well, Marnie didn't take well to stress.

Which was the reason she was standing outside of Amery Wilkes' office at 6:40, pacing and wringing her wrists and occasionally clapping her hands together. This was not good. This was so not good.

...there was no way she could possibly retain anything that they were going to talk about tonight and she knew she should have just canceled but she'd only just found out and -- and!

UGH.

There were some days at the Ministry where Amery just felt like blowing everything up.

Of course, he was never entirely happy at work, but there were just some days that pushed him over the edge.

In fact, Amery was literally at the point where he was snarling at practically everyone who crossed his path. There were few things he really enjoyed about his work, and on days like these, even less.

Paperwork that needed proper filing, presentations to see to, superiors to answer to, inferiors to demand answers from--

Frankly, he couldn't wait for the day to be over.

He was turning the corner when he was suddenly smacked into a body and stumbled slightly. "Excuse me," Amery snapped, dusting off his robes where they'd be disturbed. "I doubt it would pain you to watch where you were going."