Hey everyone.
Thank you to everyone that has favourited/followed and left a review, it means the world, it really does. Apologies for the abrupt ending to the last chapter, I've gone over my notebook and can't seem to find anything else I wrote for it and I must have just been so engrossed writing that I didn't stop to think of how the chapter ended.
Well, with that out of the way, enjoy chapter 3.
Chapter Three
Abbott vs, Flint: Parkinson: Nott Snr
"Our friends in the North have a lot more experience in the mining and production of the materials needed for the creation of cauldrons that are up to the standards required at the potion development department in St. Mungo's," William Abbott told the members present as they discussed the funding St. Mungo's currently required. "How can we provide exceptional care to the people of our country if we are charging them such extortionate rates for necessary equipment."
"And exactly how much are our friends in the North planning on charging us for their luxurious products?" Flint asked, while Nott and Parkinson shared a look with each other.
"Estimates show that we would save approximately 12,000 Galleons that can be diverted elsewhere," Abbott informed them, frowning slightly when the three men put their heads together at the mention od the large sum of gold.
"And where exactly will this surplus gold go, pray tell?" Flint asked while Nott and Parkinson continued to whisper between themselves.
"There are many options," Abbott responded, looking through his parchments. "One option is a raise in payment for the Healers."
"That would surely cost much more than 12,000 Galleons?" Nott asked with a frown.
"Well, it depends on how much of a raise would be required, they've not had one for approximately ten years."
"Where else could the gold go?" Parkinson asked, speaking up for the first time during that session.
"We also have the option of expanding the potions development lab; the Janus Thickey ward, or even just updating the building itself. The interior of St. Mungo's hasn't been changed since the 1930's."
"We're not trying to make the building a more desirable place to be," Flint said with a sneer. "We want people in and out as quickly as possible, not hanging around to admire the decorations."
"The general populous is getting healthier and healthier, it doesn't make sense on a financial level to increase the payments for Healers when the hospital will no doubt be forced to let go of staff in the years to come," Nott Snr pointed out.
"The Janus Thickey ward is perfectly adequate for it's occupants as it currently stands," Parkinson added, barely waiting for Nott to stop talking before he piped up.
"And without proper and thorough testing of these so called 'superior' cauldrons, there is absolutely no point in increasing the potion development department," Flint told Abbott with a devious grin. "It would be highly irresponsible to take valuable time away from Healers and Potioneers, not to mention wasting valuable and expensive potion ingredients to perform tests to check the suitability of these new cauldrons," he pointed out with a shake of his head. "No, I think and believe the majority of the Wizengamot will agree with me, that it is much more responsible t keep the cauldron supplier the same," he concluded, quickly wrapping up the Wizengamot session before Abbott could voice any more arguments for his proposal.
Wood vs Bulstrode: Fudge: Zabini
"The national team hasn't made the qualifying rounds of the World Cup in at least a decade," Wood informed his fellow members as they discussed the funding allocations for the department of Magical Games and Sports, an area of the Ministry that hadn't seen an increase in funding for at least twenty years. "They need an injection of funds to properly promote the sport so that we can secure more sponsorships."
"The local teams don't have any problems," Bulstrode pointed out.
"And they don't ask for hand-outs from the Ministry either," Zabini added, a manicured brown raised in derision, clearly not thrilled at having to take part in this particular session. "If they can do it, why can't the British team?"
"Because the national team can't take on sponsorship that could be seen as a conflict of interest," Wood pointed out to his fellow Wizengamot members.
"That doesn't mean we should spend valuable Ministry resources on something that doesn't have a guaranteed return on it's investment. Worse, investing in something that has the potential to cause us national and international embarrassment," Zabini pointed out with a shake of her head,
"Yeah, heaven forbid the country embarrass themselves," Wood responded dryly. "Wouldn't want the actions of certain individuals to reflect badly on the country," he added with a pointed look at Bulstrode and Fudge, much to the latter's obvious annoyance.
"All the more reason then, to avoid further shame and embarrassment to the country by fielding what is quite frankly a sub-par national team," Fudge informed Wood, obviously smarting from his previous comment.
"With the right coach and manager, the team could go far; it just needs the right encouragement and sponsorship for new kit and we could stand a chance," Wood told them, even going so far as to stand up, clearly passionate about his proposal. Harry could definitely see where Oliver Wood -his former captain and friend- got his passion for Quidditch from. He did wonder if Wood could be encouraged to be equally impassioned about other proposals. As Wood continued to argue with the other members, Harry took note that now Fudge had been called out for his past actions, he was much more vocal in his opposition to Woods funding proposal, knocking back every argument put forward with surprisingly precise rebuttals, with figures and facts that Harry didn't know how he had pulled out so quickly, making him question the validity of the facts, something he knew he would have to keep an eye on if he ever went against Fudge during a session.
Macmillan; Fawley vs. Burke; Belby; Flint: Nott Snr
As Harry sat up in the stands of the Wizengamot and watched as Macmillan and Fawley were interrupted time and time again by either Burke or Flint, wile Nott Snr and Belby occasionally added their own commentary if it looked as though Macmillian or Fawley were about to present any counter- argument.
"How's it going?" Daphne asked as she joined him, taking a seat next to him, placing her files on the little make-shift desk Harry had transfigured for himself. "How many sessions have you sat in on?"
"This would be my fourth," he told her, not taking his eyes off Fudge, noticing that despite the loud arguments going on in the session, Fudge was just sat back with his arms crossed, a smirk on his face as he watched the chaos unfold in front of him, obviously not in the least bit concerned at the poor behaviour of the members of the Wizengamot. "Why is Fudge just sat there? I know he take part in debates himself, I've even sat in on one," he asked Daphne, voicing one of the queries he'd taken note of over the last few weeks.
"You must have lucked out to sit in on that session," Daphne told him as she glared down at Fudge, her distaste for the man obvious on her face. "He doesn't generally like to get his hands dirty during sessions, he much prefers to let other people do the arguing while he sits back and watch the fall out."
"So I can see."
"There are a few people that are brave -or stupid- enough to go against Fudge. To be honest, he doesn't go against anyone very often."
"How does he manage to avoid them?" Harry asked, curiously.
"He rigs the session draws and diaries so that he doesn't come up against certain members," she told him before giving him an amused look. "I wouldn't be surprised if, when you become a more prominent member, you'll find that you won't have any sessions at all with certain members," she told him with a sad smile, annoyed and upset over how much of a waste that prospect would be.
"Who else does Fudge avoid?" Harry asked.
Sitting back in her chair, Daphne looked down at Fudge as she thought about his session habits. "Well, he doesn't have sessions with Amelia Bones, that's some hang-up from the war when she was a department head and he was Minister and she used to call him out on his bullshit. I don't think he goes up against my father very often, not unless he's very well prepared, which he never really is. I doubt he'll go against you in the future, like I said," she told him, before turning and throwing him an amused grin. "And last, but no means least, we have the person her avoids under any and all circumstances," she said, nodding her head in the direction of the chamber door that had just burst open revealing Augusta Longbottom, the entire chamber falling silent at her entrance, the only sound in the room was Longbottom's heels clicking as she strode to the centre of the room.
"It would appear that someone," Longbottom remarked to her fellow members with a glowering look directed at Fudge, "changed the timing of the session and neglected to inform me or amend my copy of the court diary. Now, where are we up to? I believe this session was to discuss the proposal of a minimum gold payment," she asked as she made her way towards her seat.
"Yes, Madam Longbottom," Fawley said, standing up again. "We were just discussing the benefits of a minimum two galleon an hour payment that would reduce the disparity in incomes between shop staff and Ministry employees," he remarked as Longbottom received the pack of information for that days session. "The Ministry has stipulations in place that guarantees a minimum payment for all it's employees, yet even this varies from department to depart-…"
"That's because some departments are obviously more important than others. An Unspeakable shouldn't take home the same payment as someone who recovers biting tea … cups," Flint interrupted, only to peter off into silence when he realised, he was on the receiving end of a glare from Madam Longbottom, much to Harry and Daphne's amusement.
With two more interruptions prevented with some well place withering looks from Madam Longbottom, Harry for the first time saw Fudge looking increasingly worried and frazzled that this session wouldn't go at all like he'd planned it. The session proceeded somewhat smoothly and they'd even managed to cast a vote on whether or not the proposed decree would be read and debated in a full Wizengamot session in a couple of weeks' time, which surprisingly passed.
"Fudge will do anything in his power, even resorting to petty and childish actions like changing session schedules at the last minute, to avoid having Madam Longbottom be in any sessions," Daphne explained as the two watched everyone pack up at the end of the session.
"So she doesn't let anyone get interrupted and Fudge doesn't like that, obviously."
"Obviously, but it's a bit more complicated than that. You'll have seen how certain members use interruptions and badgering in order to distract and quite frankly bore other members of the Wizengamot so that they'll not agree to allow the proposed decree go forward to the next stage of debate. The average age of a member of the Wizengamot is 66, you helped bring that down by the way, some of these guys are in their hundreds and get very easily bored and tired. That, along with ensuring there is always a certain number of, shall we call them traditionalist, being in session means Fudge can squash any proposal he doesn't like and maintain the status quo for himself and all his little buddies," Daphne explained, looking over at Harry and offering him a small, sad smile. "From everything that you've witnessed, do you understand why I think you're the best person to get some much-needed change in our world?" she asked, and Harry couldn't help but pick up in how sad she sounded.
"Yeah, I get it," he told her with a sad smile of his own. "I've got the name and legends behind me to make them sit up and take notice. It's going to take more than just me to really get anything achieved though."
"Well, it's a good job you're not afraid of hard work then isn't it? Tell you what, why don't you go and gather up any notes you've made from the sessions you've seen and we'll grab something to eat and talk over any questions you might have," she suggested, standing and turning to leave, confident that he'd follow.
"Shall we go muggle? Less chance of us being disturbed," Harry suggested as he quickly gathered his own parchments to follow her.
"Obviously, I wouldn't want anyone to accuse me of hero-worshipping you," she told him, throwing him a grin over her shoulder, their chuckles echoing around the empty Wizengamot chamber.