Just as the Council meeting ended, another one began and much to his chagrin, Godric was snagged by his father and dragged into yet another tedious meeting.
This one was much smaller, and held in the ballroom of Gryffindor manor. Only a select few had been chosen to attend it, among them the 4 Leaders, 3 of the heirs and several councillors whom Godric did not recognize.
Lord Gryffindor ordered a table be set up by the roaring fireplace and soon a veritable feast had sprung up in the ballroom. This, Godric thought as he sampled the delicious fare, is my kind of meeting. Perhaps it wouldn't be such a drag, and though Godric was not aware of it, it would soon become very interesting indeed.
"Now," Lord Gryffindor began, standing at the end of the table looking quite imperious. "You have been summoned to this, more secret, meeting on account of a few things, the least of which is your sobriety, loyalty and resourcefulness. Please, eat first. We will continue this meeting once we've all eaten. No sense carrying much longer on an empty stomach." Many cheers rose from a few councillors near the end of the table, and the meeting begun on high spirits.
Mathew and Salazar were seated on either side of Godric, and the three chatted amiably while the rest of the party ate.
"Where's Rowena?" Salazar asked suddenly, noticing the female heir was conspicuously absent from the proceedings. "Isn't she supposed to be here, too?"
"I would think so," Godric said slowly, glancing about the room for the familiar stately heiress.
Malfoy looked about as well, but shook his head. "I don't think this is a meeting she would likely be asked to attend," he supplied casually.
"Why not?" Godric asked, alerted by the secretive and all-too-well-informed note of Malfoy's voice.
"This is man's business, and Rowena had no place in it, heiress or not," Mathew replied matter-of-factly.
A potted ficus tree nearby shook slightly, but Mathew dismissed it as his imagination and the results of unhealthy amounts of alcohol. Ficus trees were not sentient beings and could not shake with rage.
"How do you know what business this meeting is about, anyways, Malfoy?" Salazar snapped, annoyed with Mathew's attitude.
Mathew just smirked. "If you bothered to listen to anything that was said at the council meeting, you would know."
Godric and Salazar were effectively silenced.
They said no more, and in time, the other councillors finished their meals and exchanged pleasantries while the servants cleared the table and the Leaders chatted amongst themselves.
"At last, we come to the business of this second meeting," Lord Gryffindor began. "I trust all of you now know about the problem of Muggle-born witches and wizards. Makin here-" he gestured towards a tall, lanky man of about 30 "-brought up a good suggestion for -ah, how do I put this delicately?- dealing with them." At this, Mathew smiled a slow, dark, knowing smile; the smile of a predator as it closes in on its helpless prey. Godric's chair scraped against the floor loudly as he shuffled away from Mathew.
Lord Gryffindor returned the smile, and all of the Leaders looked smugly satisfied, save Lord Malfoy, who was looking distressed and uneasy. Mathew noticed this, and sneered, an expression much more familiar and much less terrifying than his previous predatory smile.
Lord Gryffindor began pacing now, the excitement clear on his rugged face, an expression mirrored in Mathew's. "What Makin has suggested is witch hunts. The kinds the Muggles initiate against us. But if we could just... harness fear and hatred and direct it at Muggle-born witches, it would solve all our problems. The thing is, Muggles can't tell the difference between true wizards and those filthy mudblooded, magic-stealing wizards. And that's where you come in," he said triumphantly, gesturing to all those seated around the room, including the heirs.
At this, Mathew stood up and took over from Lord Gryffindor. The two exchanged a knowing nod, and Mathew began. "If we disguise ourselves as Muggles and lead these hunts, we can eradicate this disease amongst our kind. We'll direct attention away from true wizards while killing those filthy mudbloods and purifying our race."
Godric contained his annoyance at Mathew and his father. Since when had Malfoy become his father's wing man? Spitefully, Godric dumped salad dressing into Mathew's drink while his back was turned and grinned as Mathew sat back down and took a swig of his drink.
Godric was slightly disappointed that Mathew only managed a gargling cough and an expression of disgust. He had expected a more volatile reaction, and set about planning better pranks that all involved embarrassing Mathew in front of his father.
"It is indeed a perfect plan," Lord Ravenclaw piped up, "But how will we know which Muggles have magical abilities? What if we accidentally kill our own kind?"
Lord Gryffindor bared his teeth in what could only be call a feral grimace. "I think I know how. We'll start a registration committee."
"And how will that help?" someone interrupted from the back, sounding sceptical.
"Pure-blooded families will register with us, and those possessing magic who are not registered will be killed by our hunting parties. Simple as that. Satisfied?" asked Lord Gryffindor sarcastically.
There were scattered nods of understanding, while those who were more sceptical wisely kept their uncertainty to themselves.
And all this while Rowena listened silently from behind a potted plant. She had sneaked in, dressed as a servant, and quickly disguised herself behind a ficus plant with a little charm of her own invention that rendered her invisible by way of camouflage. It was quite useful in times like this, sneaking into meetings she was forbidden to attend.
If curiosity killed the cat, then it was a stupid cat. Rowena was much smarter at going about her business. She wouldn't be found unless she wanted to be seen, and anyways, the silly men would never know of her eavesdropping, they were so transfixed with Lord Gryffindor's thinly disguised promises of war.
Listening to the matter, though, Rowena decided she was on neutral ground with regards to Muggle-born wizards. She didn't deny that they were of ancestry less noble than her own, but at the same time, she could not justify their rampant slaughter.
She shrugged, and decided not to become involved with the matter first-hand. She was, however, disappointed with Lord Gryffindor's pathetic plan.
Her quick, able mind had quickly devised a more efficient method of tracking the Muggle-born wizards. It was based on a map which she held in her hands, one that she had found in her mother's library, which her father had cordoned off as condemned when Lady Ravenclaw died, but which Rowena perused regularly anyways.
She had quickly found that the map tracked the movements of witches, wizards and other magical personnel within the Ravenclaw mansion. Rowena assumed they had used the map to keep an eye on the servants, and it was on this map that her entire plan rested.
Not that she wanted to get involved in the witch hunts and the unjustified slaughter of Muggleborns, but Lord Gryffindor's inefficient, clumsy plan greatly offended her innate sense of effectiveness and efficiency. Her plan would offer the best combination of ease of use and efficiency, not to mention that it would greatly boost her status amongst the Leaders and heirs.
The Leaders and councillors bantered back and forth for a good 5 minutes before Rowena could resist it no longer. She quickly moved out from behind the ficus, and tiptoed to the back of the room where she could remove the charm as unobtrusively as possible.
Muttering the counter spell, she stepped forward and quietly took the empty seat beside Salazar. She grinned smugly as Salazar almost fell out of his seat in surprise.
"Lord Gryffindor? Lord Gryffindor, excuse me for interrupting," she apologized graciously, standing up to address the meeting.
The entire room fell silent, and then there was Lord Ravenclaw's enraged shout of, "Who let the girl in here?"
"I'm sorry to have eavesdropped on this meeting, but I just couldn't resist," she continued apologetically, levelling her gaze at Lord Gryffindor, who was staring at her, dumbfounded. "But your plan seems a little... shaky. Uncertain. Inefficient." She would have continued with the adjectives, had Lord Gryffindor's face not turned a worrisome shade of purple. "Lord Gryffindor? Sir?"
Lord Gryffindor exploded into a rage, standing up so violently his chair was overturned. "Get out! I do not need to take orders from you! Get out!" he repeated angrily when Rowena made no motion to leave.
Summoning as much courage as she could, she drew herself up to her full height, almost as tall as Lord Gryffindor, and stared at him coolly.
"I would appreciate it if you listened to what I have to say before you burst my eardrums with all your shouting and whatnot."
"What do you have to say that I do not?" His rage simmered beneath the surface of his threatening demeanour, but his face had returned to a more healthy colour. At the very least, Rowena was no longer worried about him dropping dead from a coronary.
"A good idea." She hadn't meant it to come out so insultingly confident and arrogant, but Lord Gryffindor's rage only increased as he listened with rising aggravation. Godric quickly disguised his snort of laughter as a cough and received several glares and Salazar's amused smirk.
"Really? How charming. I wasn't away that you could think, much less come up with a viable plan," he shot back scathingly.
"I'm afraid there are many things you are not aware of, Lord Gryffindor," Rowena retorted calmly, despite the fact that the look on Lord Gryffindor's face was now once flushed angrily.
Both Godric and Salazar descended into violent fits of coughing, while Malfoy glared at Rowena with undisguised hatred.
Lord Gryffindor shouted something incoherent, probably a profanity, and pointed his wand at Rowena menacingly.
The room, silent until then, erupted into chaos. Salazar was trying to pull Rowena down into her seat and simultaneously disarming Mathew, who had shot a particularly nasty hex at Rowena. Godric was barely containing his laughter as he watched his father struggle with a scathing comeback to Rowena's razor-sharp wit, and Lord Ravenclaw was almost in tears, mortified at his daughter's behaviour, apologizing profusely to Lord Gryffindor.
"You have exactly one minute before I hex you to oblivion!" Lord Gryffindor bellowed.
The room went silent again, and Rowena pulled the map out of her pocket after shaking Salazar off her arm and fixing him with an icy glare. "This map traces the movements of witches and wizards, and with a little tweaking and your registration idea, we can accurately trace the locations of Muggle-born wizards with pin-point accuracy," she finished calmly, just as Lord Gryffindor prepared to hex her.
Lord Ravenclaw, recognizing the map as his, began to protest loudly, but Lord Gryffindor shushed him.
"Let me see it," he demanded suspiciously, lowering his wand. Rowena walked to the head of the table and handed him the map. He studied it intently, then nodded slowly as he stowed the map in the pocket of his robes. He could not deny the ingenuity and efficiency of Rowena's plan. Rather than duel another losing verbal battle against Rowena, he decided flattery was the best route to go. He smiled at her graciously, and nodded.
"An excellent idea." He dismissed Rowena, then consulted the Leaders briefly.
He produced a piece of parchment and several quills and wells of ink, then laid them out on the table. "Those interested in participating in the witch hunts, sign up here. We will be sending out owls for registration later this week. Next week, we reconvene, and the witch hunts begin. Dismissed."
The room emptied quickly, after a brief flurry of activity as the councillors signed up for the witch hunts, and soon the only ones left in the room were the Leaders and their heirs.
"Rowena, see if you can get me a working prototype of your map. I want it to cover all of Britain," Lord Gryffindor said, handing Rowena back the magical map with an apologetic smile. Rowena merely took the map and disapparated to her room in the Ravenclaw mansion without a word, although she grinned smugly at Lord Gryffindor's back when he turned to address the heirs. She knew she had won this battle.
"Mathew, Salazar and Godric, you'll be the leaders of these hunts. Here's the list. Choose your men. We'll assemble exactly a week from now, once Rowena has the map working and we've got a list of registered families." Lord Gryffindor handed out copies of the lists to each of the remaining heirs, who then went their separate ways.
"And as for us," Lord Gryffindor said, gesturing to the Leaders with a slow smile, "We've got owls to send."
A/N: Yes, I'm sorry for yet another long, boring chapter, but hopefully Rowena's scathing wit at least kept you from pulling your hair out in exasperation. =) The interesting part begins after this chapter, I swear. Love to those who have reviewed, you make my days a bit better. Also, since I didn't have time to update last Sunday, today, you my lovely readers will get 2 new chapters instead of just one. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: the Harry Potter Universe and all recognizable names, places, ideas, etc belong to J. K. Rowling. I am merely borrowing their awesomeness for the purpose of this story.