Indigo Prophecy

Eli tossed a biscuit into the air and shot a spell at it, forcing the thing to burst into a thick puff of steam. The remainder of his lunch lay on the table right next a folder filled with profiles of Azkaban's newest arrivals. A quill scribbled in signatures at the bottom of each page, all on it's own, while Eli read through the little blurbs at the bottom of each.

Didn't they have people who were supposed to do this for him? Oh wait, that was for other offices, that actually had more than three employees. He tossed a piece of his salad in the air, vaporizing it in the same way. Soon enough, his lunch was gone. Not that he minded. At the time, his boredom was a much more pressing problem than his hunger.

"Eli." Brock murmured, lazily expelliarmus-ing the food before he could shoot it. "Stop being lazy. What am I paying you to do?" He yawns, then summoned another roll from his place and took a bite.

He paused in his eating to watch his left hand move about, a giddy smile taking over his expression as he watched the gold bland glint.

"I'm in dire need of a bachlor party, and as my best man, you're responsible. I hope you know that."

Eli sighed, his eyes half-heartedly following the food as it soared across the room. He frowned as he returned his attention to Brock, "Your job."

His smile grew into a smirk, which just barely concealed Eli's excitement at the prospect of a part and his best friend's wedding, "Fine." He jumped out of his seat, closing the dusty file with a flick of his wand, "But I don't want to be the one to hire the strippers. I wouldn't really know where to go." When it came to things like that, Eli's expertise was shamefully low.