It looked like the Director had understated just how much of a mess England was. Kelly Dellon had been to the Ministry of Magic only once before. It was a class field trip to gain a more global perspective. Or something. He couldn’t remember much. But he did recall enough to know there had once been a set of statues greeting you as you stepped out of the green flames and into the main area. The center of the fountain was empty and in the chaos of everything else, it would probably remain. The poet in Kelly found some significance in that particular thought. He saved it to write down later when he got back to his room at the Leaky Cauldron. Which was a lovely place. Could use a thorough cleaning in his opinion. He hoped he stood out in the chaos enough for his guide to take notice of him. He was likely the only Native American man in the lobby, the country probably. He was dressed in simple black robes with a small American flag pinned to the side of his fedora. He stroked his small black goatee as he leaned against the wall and waited.