Setting: The lobby of St. Mungos, approx. after these two threads.
I was fairly confident in my assertion that no one had seen me come and go from the Pathology Wing of St. Mungos. Only an associate healer, her head buried in a romance novel, had bothered to flinch as I walked by her desk down to the lobby. Even Albus Dumbledore could fit in a hospital for magical injuries.
I had much to tell Alastor. I wasn't certain when he would finish his visit with Kingsley Shacklebolt, so I took a seat in the lobby and pulled the Modern Sassy Witch Stitch n' Bitch magazine from my robe pocket and began to read. Every once in a while I'd lift my head as someone passed, but none of them were Alastor. Simple enough watch; the man was rather unique in appearance.