I don't own Harry Potter. But I'm not bothered. And it's the first day of the Christmas Hols, YAY! (Hey, when you get to sleep in 'till 7.30 am you know it's good!)
Also, thank you for all the kind and flattering reviews, it's lovely to receive them.
Chapter7
It was midnight, and in a very secure room that only a handful of people knew about a meeting was brought to order.
'So,' said the Minister of Magic. 'Thank you all for coming on such short notice. I know how valuable your time is to each of you. However, this is an issue that will affect us all and the generations beyond.' Here he paused and looked each of them in the eye in turn, as if judging their nerve and whether they took the situation as gravely as he. The five nodded and bobbed their agreement, some eagerly, some in a stately manner. One wizard with thinning hair that was more grey than ginger, folded his arms and nodded seriously.
For Arthur Weasley, this project was very exciting. He felt privileged, honoured and humbled to be included in this new initiative, the Ministry's immense new plan. However, he did not let it show on his face, these days he looked before he leaped a lot more than he had done in the past, he therefore kept his joy locked away, waiting for the appropriate moment before releasing it.
'Minister'. A white haired man with a long neck and black and white robes (he actually looked rather like a Crane), 'Have we proceeded any further with how we are going to move forwards in this, umm, introduction?'
His parliamentarian coyness did not endear him to the Minister, who knew Rogastrato Zelafar of old, - all of his wheedling tricks and methods of ingratiating himself were not new. However, the Minister was himself someone who could smoothly and easily move through political waters, and often others found themselves agreeing to terms they would never had previously considered before they had had their hand shaken by Minister Shacklebolt, his handsome deep brown eyes looking squarely into theirs and his warm smile lighting up his face and causing those around him to respond likewise. Room atmospheres changed when he walked into them, a glance and a nod to one of his staff members made their day. Yes, Kingsley Shacklebolt had used his time at the top well, and people were grateful for it.
His Second in Command, the Deputy Minister, the Right Honourable Madame Mafalda Hopkirk, gave Zalafar a wry smile that tonight did not quite reach her eyes. She was letting him know that she was watching him closely. She was watching them all closely. It was her job, and she was good at it.
'What has the Muggle Prime Minister said to our proposal?' A witch with golden robes and hair cut in a page-boy style asked, waving around her hand imperiously as if to show off the gigantic and precious carbuncle stone that was set upon it in ancient Goblin-wrought, beyond precious metal.
There was mutterings around the room at this and Kingsley waited for it to die down slightly, knowing that a gentle persuasive touch was what was needed here. 'It is not the Prime Minister we are dealing with, Savahna, or rather, it is not only one Prime Minister. The United Nations is a . . . '
'Yes, but answer the question, Shacklebolt, whoever is saying yes to our proposal, what do they say?' This was from a rather small man with a leather jacket cut in a WWI aviator style, he curled his upper lip as he spoke and made the waxed, upturned handlebar moustache on it quiver. He put Arthur, a long time reader of Muggle authors, in mind of one of his boyhood favourites. He had always loved the adventures of Biggles.
Kingsley decided gentle and persuasive had had its time and now authority needed to take over. 'They are in the final stages of making a decision. All signs, however, look positive . . .'
'Final stages? Only making a bloody decision?' Zalafar shook his head and looked more stork like than ever, or at least Madame Hopkirk was put in mind of a heron shaking a frog before swallowing it. 'They've only had twenty years to . . . '
'Yes, yes, yes.' The Minister held up his palms for silence and was granted it. 'We all know the arguments. We know the time it's taken. We also know a lot of patience is needed, this is a big undertaking for all of us'. He took the time again to look around at every one of them, the candlelight flickering off the bronze fixtures and the small conference table and coating them all in the subsequent glow. 'We know this,' he repeated, 'and we know it may never come to pass. But,' here he gave off his legendary charismatic smile 'somehow I don't think that this will be the case. Especially after the assignment we have just been given by the Muggle Governance'.
The eyes around the table all looked to his immediately, looking hopeful and nervous and fearful in turns. Madame Hopkirk hoped that the Minister's legendary allure would cover him now.
