Je ne sais quoi
Rating: PG for the moment
Genre: Drama
Warnings: None.
Summary: This is not shaping up to be a good week for Hermione. Or the rest of the world.

Chapter 3: Bubble, bubble.

The knock was loud, insistent and repetitive. It reverberated through the spacious if very messy office. However the witch behind the desk did not stir to answer it. She did not appear to hear it as she carefully turned the pages of the heavy tome in front of her. Huffing softly, she shook her head, the badly made bun falling apart into a multi-colored curtain around her face. She pushed back at it impatiently.

"Anee, you bint, open up. I know you've been there since last night and I bet you forgot breakfast. Either open up or I'm calling reinforcements."

She growled under her breath.

"Open up or I'm calling Blaise Zabini and telling him you want his body!"

Indigo eyes narrowed ominously on the door.

"Better yet, I'm calling his mother. I'm sure Mrs. Z. would love to get her hands on the Windemere fortune by proxy."

She sighed and slid from her chair to her feet fluidly. Flinging open the door, she glared at the young man behind it. The large, black framed glasses that crowned his skinny, somewhat geeky look contrasted wildly with the demonic grin on his face.

"What Theo? Do you live to torment me?" she demanded.

He slipped around her and set the tray in his hands on top of the least precarious pile on her desk.

"Eat witch. We have to talk."

Glowering, she yanked a dagger from a sheath at her side. "You want to tone that down? You already owe me for the Zabini remarks, caro, and I really don't want to explain to Daph why you're suddenly pretty, red and ribbony."

It was with obviously infinite patience that he endured the tip of the dagger against his carotid artery - and he should have known it was the carotid because she had explained that to him their first year when he made what she deemed an inappropriate remark about her tri-colored hair. Of course it may have been that if he had indeed moved, he may have been dead within minutes. Unless the tender mercies of Antigone Windemere relented to heal him. And that all depended on how moody she was. His opinion, which was born of years of association with the witch, was that she was exceptionally moody at that moment.

She smirked and replaced the dagger. She eyed the platter and reluctantly took a buttered scone, biting into it. "So what do you want?"

"Lance dropped by. He said the Ministry is doing something you wouldn't approve of."

She blinked as she chewed. "And this is news?"

"In this case, yes," he said quickly.

As he explained, she paused mid-chew. Then she bit down as if the scone bit in her mouth was in fact a Death Eater. Or at least some vital part of a Death Eater. Whom she did not like. A lot.

"Get the profiles and his report together. And have Scott make an appointment with Daph and Granger."

It was Sunday morning and for once Hermione was not getting ready for a visit with her parents. Instead, she was standing next to an impatient Daphne in front of the Minister's secretary.

"The Minister will see you soon, Ms. Greengrass," the man repeated sharply.

Daphne leaned over the table. "Look Timmons, I'm really not pleased about being here on what was to be my only day off this week. And I'm even less pleased to be kept waiting for over an hour. So keep in mind, I'm in International. I have connections in dirty, foreign places. Your continued comfortable existence is not guaranteed."

The man swallowed. "I can't hurry the Minister," he protested at a sudden high pitch.

Hermione sighed and nudged Daphne. "Stop terrifying him. You're becoming more like Antigone every day."

Daphne grinned in what was not a wholly pleasant manner. "You have to admit, she has style."

"Yes but how likeable is her style?" Hermione countered.

"I like it," Daphne replied quickly.

It was probably for the best in general and specifically for Timmons that the Minister's office door swung open.

"Ms. Granger, Ms. Greengrass, come in," Rufus Scrimgeour said.

Daphne was first inside and in a chair, Hermione a step behind her as she took in the Minister's expression. His leonine features seemed drawn, and it may have just been her, but it seemed the tawny mane of his hair was losing the battle with gray.

"What can we do for you Minister?" Hermione asked.

"We have a problem," he said gravely. "I am sure you've heard of Mr. Zabini's... protest?"

His pause gave the witches a chance to exchange a look. Hermione did not particularly approve of his choice of word to describe the event in question, but she kept her face even and nodded.

"I've had several complaints since then from prominent families about the matter. They agree with Mr. Zabini and reference several events to prove his point. This troubles me," he continued. "I would not want to think our Ministry would consciously perpetrate such philosophy."

"Minister, I can't believe that our Ministry is in fact doing so," Hermione said slowly.

"We can only hope and patrol ourselves," he replied. "But that's not why you're here."

Daphne seemed to choke on a cough. Hermione shot her a quick look. She knew Daph was less than pleased with the direction of this conversation. She herself wasn't thrilled. But it was imperative Daph keep quiet.

"Why are we here?" Hermione said.

"In addition to internal discontent, I am getting reports of international reaction to the situation. The Middle Kingdom is making signs of withdrawing from Western affairs if matters are not rectified. The Rising Sun Republic has been subject to protests for over a month from its citizens. Additionally, the United States is very displeased with this turn of events and I've been informed that it is standing by its policies in this regard," he summed up.

This time the silence lasted. Daphne raised an eyebrow. Hermione subtly shrugged a shoulder in return and pursed her lips for a moment.

Something is rotten in the state of Denmark...

"Minister, we've seen reports about the two protests in Japan, but the Ambassador from the Middle Kingdom has given every indication the Dynasty is not the least bit concerned with this matter," Hermione said.

"Also, I recently attended an embassy ball at the US consulate and they seem to find the situation amusing at best," Daphne added.

The Minister's face clouded over. "Then you had better check your sources. This is your first priority. I want all our relationships with foreign governments smoothed over till they're silk. Are we clear?"

"Yes Minister," Hermione said hurriedly. She could tell without looking that Daphne was building up to a whole new level of outraged.

"Excellent," he said. "Now I have some important matters to attend to. Thank you for coming in today."

"Of course Minister," Hermione said. Her quickly thrown glare forced a civil nod out of Daphne.

As the door closed behind them, Daphne made a soft sound that would have been appropriate in an angry lioness. Too much association with Gryffindors Hermione thought idly as her mind churned.

Daphne turned her head and smiled at Timmons in an expression that was basically a baring of her teeth. The man shivered. Hermione looped her arm around Daphne's and pulled her into the hallway.

"Emergency meeting?" Hermione said quietly.

"Let's go make the calls," Daphne replied.