Damitri moved into the most opulent area of the Ministry of Magic; the offices of the Minister himself. There was a large room at least fifty feet across of white marble floors with paintings in gold frames. Runners of various colors adorned tables set with attractive vases full of flowers were placed underneath each of the paintings; the flowers seeming to coordinate with both picture and runner they were set upon. The room had a large fireplace that seemed as if it was useable for the Floo Network but Damitri knew that it had been closed off for transportations recently.
About the room was arranged some furniture covered in plush velvet of white with wood polished to a golden sheen. There seemed to be two couches and five or so chairs in little conversation groups set up, but more chairs had been summoned that did not match the rest of the décor. Somehow this room did not seem designed to hold as many chairs as there were presently, not that he was surprised. They had to accommodate the thirty or so individuals who were seated here waiting to see the minister.
Ernie MacMillan was pacing the floor of the elegant lobby, his face flushed with anger and robes fluttering about his legs as he walked. He glanced at Damitri and sighed. "Good luck to you, no one else has been in to see that balmy bloke all morning." He growled.
"I have a feeling I'll be speaking for many when I do get to see him." Damitri said, giving the man a respectful bow, and it was returned despite the man's clear irritation. He then moved forward to the only desk in the room, set a good twenty feet away from the nearest chair.
Behind that desk was a woman easily in her late nineties, her silver white hair caught up in an attractive bun that reminded Damitri of photos he had seen of women in the eighteen hundreds – what was that style…? Gibson Girls; that was it. Her face bore some of the wrinkles that one would expect of a witch her age, but she still had plenty of the strength and vigor of youth evident in her every movement and was very alert. And she was not unfamiliar to him at all; she had been one of his father's classmates when he had attended school. She smiled as he approached, rising to her feet. "Well this is a nice surprise, Mr. Zabini…! You look wonderful; how are your sisters doing…?"
"Mrs. Chantiron." Damitri smiled warmly, moving to take her hand and bow to her before kissing the back of it. "Such a pleasant surprise to see you here… I didn't realize you were working for the Ministry…"
"Oh, a witch has got to keep her hand in it you know, and there's not too much that I'm suited for anymore…" she chuckled good-naturedly.
"Nonsense; I'm sure you could still out-hex half of the ministers. I'd even lay money on that…"
"Never said my skills got rusty, did I?" she asked with a merry twinkle in her eye. "And you're avoiding my question about your sister in law, I notice…"
"Not avoiding, specifically… she's well as she can be. She rarely comes to visit; her life doesn't give her time to do much family socializing."
"Shame about Blaise, you know. That poor child; your elder sister was such a raving beauty but she never had a moment to spare for him. He was very fortunate to have an uncle to raise him like you, Damitri."
"You flatter me, Mrs. Chantiron." Damitri chuckled.
"And your dear sister Kinder; I know she was so attached to that fellow Severus Snape, how did she take him becoming a triad with Nymphadora and that Lupin fellow…?" she asked him.
"She took it hard at first; but after a while she realized that it was actually the best thing for all involved. Severus was never satisfied with only female companionship and she was simply not what he needed. She has found companionship of her own, off in America. She was last out here in the fall, visiting with Blaise and attending two of his games." "
"Across the pond…? What a shame she had to go too far to find her partner…" she sighed sadly. "I do miss visiting with your family; you should bring them about every once in a while. I haven't moved out of the old family home, you know."
"Yes, I know. I'd like you to visit with my husband; he's quite the charmer." Damitri smiled. He knew that Terry might be nervous around this regal-looking old woman at first, but he would warm up quickly enough with this old family friend.
"I'd love that… bring him over for tea on Thursday; I'll make something special." She said, winking at him, and then she sighed. "Although I would love to pretend that you came up here to visit with me, I'm certain that you have something else bubbling in your cauldron…"
He chuckled at the old phrase and nodded. "Unfortunately, yes. I must speak with the Minister."
That made the woman grimace. "Who doesn't? I'm sorry, Damitri, the Minister isn't seeing anyone today..." she said apologetically.
"Is he even in?" Damitri asked pointedly.
She sighed, glancing at the door. "To be perfectly honest, I'm not sure. He said he was going to be out this afternoon." She answered. She had been given instructions not only to divert any of the magical community away from his office, but also to not allow any of them to even know his whereabouts. "You'll have to visit with the head Auror concerning the case and I believe there are eight others ahead of you. Would you like me to contact Ms. Lupin for you...?" she offered pleasantly.
"If I needed to speak to her I wouldn't have come up here." Damitri said reasonably. "I will speak to the Minister and no other about this..."
"I'm sorry, but he's not here." She answered.
"Perhaps I could simply step in and leave him a message." He suggested reasonably.
"I don't know…"
"If it causes you any inconvenience whatsoever, dear lady, I will take care of anything and everything that may come up. Agreed?"
"Oh, I know you will, Damitri. All right. Just in to put in a note." She said, glancing at the others waiting in the room. She moved to the door with Damitri at her heels and stood at the door a moment with her hand resting on the knob. Then she waved her wand to release the spell once the door's recognition charm had scanned her identity. She swung the door open and stepped inside, glancing about. Nothing was out of place, no sign was there that the Minister was here. "Don't be long, young man." She winked, then slipped out, leaving the door open.
Damitri stepped in and strolled to the desk, glancing around the room. Everything in the room was carefully matched, carefully crafted to impress. Gold, silver, expensive silks, and crystal were everywhere; the lighting was provided by magically lit chandeliers that hung from the ceilings. The room had high arching ceilings and stained glass windows high on the walls allowed muted light in from outside. Two tall statues stood on either side of the fireplace that were probably supposed to have been his parents, had they been charmed to have every blemish and flaw removed; the end result was that they looked angelic and regal. Damitri smirked; he had attended school with the Minister's father and knew the man was nearly a foot shorter than the majestic statue, and he had a harelip, which the sculptor had neglected to reproduce. The woman he had taken to wife was nowhere that beautiful, but such was art…
He shook his head and moved on to the desk to find a notepad with ostentatious initials across the top written in gold. He picked up the notepad and glanced about the room again; something in this room did not fit. There were plants in the room, carefully sculpted shrubberies enchanted to grow specific ways, but one of the plants was not twisted in the same way; it was a rather plain shrub. He smirked slightly but showed no other sign that he had noticed; he picked up the notepad and produced a quill form his own pocket; he jotted down a quick note on the pad, speaking the words out loud as he wrote.
"Minister, I need to speak with you immediately on a very urgent matter. If I do not speak with you today, I will be taking this up with the entire Ministerial council and have your appointment brought into question…" he said in a firm tone, turning his eyes to the bush. He pulled the paper off the pad. "I WILL have you removed from office. Make no mistake." He growled, turning to face the bush, which shivered slightly. His eyes narrowed. "I will give you five minutes, sir, to see me. If you do not deign to see me within that time, I assure you I will have you expelled from office by the end of the week." He said in a dangerously promising tone, tossing the note at the bush and walking out the open door.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~.
He pulled it closed behind him and moved back to the desk the elderly lady, who was explaining to yet another of the wizarding community that the minister was not available. This woman was clearly very pregnant and looked so large that in his opinion she could deliver any moment.
"I've had quite enough at being ignored and treated like a child because I happen to be pregnant," she growled. "I tell you I won't be put off! They're much too busy over at St Mungo's to deal with simple pregnancies; I need the services of Hermione Weasley!" She snapped, one hand over her stomach. It was clear she had no intention of backing down at all.
Mrs. Chantiron grimaced, wishing she could at least give this woman a different answer but she had not received any notice from the Minister and had nothing else to tell. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Bullock, he's not in…" she said apologetically.
"Like bloody hell he's not…! I swear I'm going to stay right here until I see him! I swear to you that I'll give birth to this baby right here in the lobby and bleed all over his fancy furniture if he doesn't see me!" She snapped, her face flushed and looking a bit pinched with pain.
"Easy, madam," Damitri said soothingly, moving forward. He was certain that he recognized her; she was the one with the muggle husband who had been in a coma for nearly a year. He had been in the Ministry the last time she had petitioned to get him transferred to St. Mungo's for treatment. He had believed that she would finally be successful but he had read the unfortunate news that he had passed away just a month ago, still in that muggle hospital. "You really ought to be sitting down…" he said with clear concern.
She glared at him too with one hand on her swollen abdomen, quite ready to do whatever it took to get her way. It was actually hard to understand how she had been unable to get her husband the treatment he needed. "I have no idea who you are, sir, but don't you DARE go cosseting me just because I'm pregnant, I've had quite enough of that for a lifetime!" she said, her eyes glinting.
Damitri held up both hands open in a gesture of non-combatant status. "I assure you I have no intention of cosseting you, madam, but I am quite concerned. You do seem to be in pain…" he replied, hiding the smile he felt coming forth because of the woman's sheer stubbornness and spirit.
She hesitated and then nodded briefly as she took a moment to consider her own condition. "I am, a bit…"
"Then if you will, please have a seat. If you will allow it, I will remain here with you for a while, and fetch a healer should the need arise." Damitri offered, gesturing to a nearby couch.
"I can't do that, I have to see the Minister." She insisted.
"As do I, madam. I must see him for the same reason as you. My husband is quite delicate and absolutely refuses to return to the medi-witch who was chosen to be the midwife; I wish nothing less than the reinstatement of Mrs. Weasley to her post as midwife." He answered her in a clear and concise tone.
"I'm Andrea Bullock; please stop calling me madam. I don't run a bloody brothel." She grumbled crossly walking with him.
Damitri found he was unable to keep from chuckling at the comment. "As you wish, Mrs. Bullock." He agreed.
"I will NOT have that bloody witch over at St. Mungo's who refused to treat my husband be the one who has the life of my child in her hands!" She growled, allowing herself to be led to a seat, where took hold of the arm of the couch and levered herself down to a seat on the soft cushions with an expression of clear pain on her face, grimacing a few moments. "Oh Merlin…" she mumbled.
Others were beginning to rise, looking over in concern but Damitri waved them off; he was sure she was in labor but she would know when the time arrived. Being a witch she could deliver normally, though she clearly wished to take no chances with the life of this little one. He took the chair beside her and gave her a warm smile. "Is it a boy?" He asked, hoping to distract her from her anger.
She stroked her stomach. "Yes. And I'm naming him after his father, who wanted nothing more than to be a daddy." She said and as Damitri had hoped her anger faded away in the memories of her lost husband, a sad and wistful smile on her face. "He would have gotten treatment they told me, if he had been injured by magic. He loved everything about the wizarding world, my Barry… he was so bright and energetic and full of life, he was… the only thing I regret is our son will never know him…" she said.
"Of course he will know him. He will know your husband through you, dear lady. He will know how much he was wanted, and how much he is still wanted and loved. And he will know what kind of man your husband, his father, was by the stories you share." Damitri said softly.
The woman gave him a sad smile. "Yes… and I have so many memories to share…"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~.
"Excuse me, Mr. Zabini…?" Mrs. Chantiron said, clearly not wanting to interrupt since Damitri had managed to get Mrs. Bullock calmed down and resting quietly with a cool glass of water.
Damitri looked up at her questioningly, though he knew precisely what he was being called for. "Yes?"
She smiled at him. "It seems the Minister has just arrived, and is asking to speak with you, sir."
"The minister's here?" Mrs. Bullock said, putting down her glass, her face flushing again, bracing herself to push back to her feet.
"I will speak to him on both our behalf. You have told me quite enough already, I assure you, to present a case strong enough to stand before the wizarding council." Damitri soothed her.
"Well…" She hesitated, and then nodded briefly, subsiding in her chair. "All right. But don't you let him talk you around to anything!"
"You have my word, Mrs. Bullock." He agreed, rising and giving her a very respectful formal bow before he turned to follow the Minister's secretary.
Others in the room overheard the conversation and several had risen to their feet as well; everyone had clear intention to swarm the office as they had on the previous occasion.
"The minister's finally got here! I've been waiting four hours to speak to him!" Eddie MacMillan broke off his pacing to stride toward them.
"I'm afraid not, Mr. MacMillan. Mr. Zabini has been requested, sir, and I cannot allow you in…"
"I'd like to see you bloody well try to keep me out!" He snapped, his eyes locked on the partially opened door.
Damitri stepped forward but Mrs. Chantiron waved him aside. "I may be a lady but I can handle this." She assured in a quiet tone, not even producing her wand. Ernie looked rather shocked when he ran into a barrier several feet away from them, as if the room had been halved by something not visible but very tangible.
"I cannot allow you to disturb the Minister until he is ready to see you, Mr. MacMillan. I assure you, he has been given every detail of your complaint and he will get to you when he is able…" The secretary remained calm and even had a pleasant smile on her face, though she was faced by the anger of easily half the individuals in the room.
Ernie, angered by his long wait and the fact that the Minister was ignoring him yet again, growled and drew his wand. "I CAN get through any shield you can throw up!"
"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Mr. MacMillan." Damitri cautioned but he may as well not have spoken at all for all the attention the younger man paid to him. Zabini simply stepped back another step; he knew this woman's history and that she had been quite the witch in her prime. He doubted she had lost any of her sharpness despite her age.
Mrs. Chantiron gave MacMillan another chance despite his clear intention to press onward right through whatever obstacle there was. "I understand your frustration, Mr. MacMillan. You could probably breach my shielding but can you do it before I have ten Aurors up here to take you into custody?" she asked in a gentle tone. "I recommend, sir, that you simply have a seat. It will be all right, I promise you…"
"You don't have the authority to promise me anything! My wife isn't getting the treatment or attention she needs and she's going to have her baby soon! The minister doesn't do anything! You can't promise me anything at all! Finite Incantatem!" He snapped.
"Protego!" the silver-haired woman spoke the word at the same moment, turning and whipping her wand about in a complex motion to cast a second spell a heartbeat later.
Damitri kept his wand at the ready but as per his family freind's wish, he did not interfere other than to cast a protective spell again to keep anyone else from being hurt by any spells.
Ernie surged forward past the shield he had shattered as the little old witch's spell took effect. The small Persian rug laid out to protect the expensive marble flooring animated; it curled up off the floor the moment that his foot touched its fibers and wrapped around his legs, wrapping tightly around both his legs and causing him to fall hard.
"Reducto!" he snarled, pointing a wand at the expensive little area rug exploded into a thousand pieces of wool and thread, showing that he had also caused himself harm as his robes were singed and shredded his legs beneath them were shredded and burned as well. He clearly showed no care for himself or his injuries as he began to force himself to his feet again. "Bombarda! he snapped, wand pointed at the wall beside the door.
The wall shivered than exploded toward them, a shower of rock and dust and the physical blast itself knocking all three of them to the floor with the resultant shock wave. Ernie was in the middle of that blast wave and was bowled over and thrown backwards, and both Damitri and the elderly lady were shoved to the floor with violent force, obscuring the sight of the wall, several woman screaming in fear as they shied away from the destruction. Damitri's protective shield ensured no others were hurt by flying debris, though a big cloud of dust did result.
Ernie struggled to his feet and returned his eyes to his focus; staring in shock half a moment. The wall had not been breached by his attack but there was a very deep indentation in the stone and half of the thickness of the wall was gone. One more blast should do it... he coughed and tried to get a clear breath, squinting through the dust.
It cleared with startlign suddenness; Mrs. Chantiron was already on her feet and finished clearing the dust away with another gesture of her wand.
The half-moment pause he gave her with his total shock and surprise at her resilience was all she needed to end this mess; her "Incarcerous!" spell caught him and sent him toppling to the floor as magical bindings seized his arms and legs, binding him tightly from shoulder to feet.
Ernie panicked, knowing that he had no chance now of seeing the Minister and likely would face charges for what he had done. He struggled wildly, tears streaking the fresh dust and grit on his face. "No! No, I have to see him! You don't understand...!"
"On the contrary, I do understand, Mr. MacMillan." She moved forward to him, bending to gaze at his injuries and deciding that they were not life threatening at all before she took a moment to gaze at her fallen foe with no malice in her eyes. "I understand, but that wasn't the way to go about getting what you need."
He sagged onto the floor, the fight gone out of him. "My wife...!" he whimpered.
"Your wife needs you to be with her, sir, not in Azkaban. Now relax and I will see what can be done." she said quietly, rising to her feet as several loud pops announced the arrival of at least a dozen Aurors.
"Are you all right, Mrs. Chantiron?" Damitri asked, moving up to her.
"Not to worry, Damitri, not to worry. Run along and see the Minister, I will handle this… easy there, be gentle with that man…!" she scolded two of the Aurors now pulling Ernie to his feet.
One Auror looked at her with more than a little surprise. "But he attacked you…!"
She had no intention of allowing the Auror, whatever his station, to overrun what she intended. "He's not in his right mind I tell you. Be easy with him!" she ordered once more, waggling her wand warningly.
Damitri, seeing all was well in hand and there was no injured to deal with, turned and moved to the door of the Minister's office. He opened tapped firmly on the door, then opened it and moved into the room.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~.
The minister's office had not actually been breached by the blast thrown by that desperate father, but on the inside of the wall there was a clear area that was bowed inward where the bombarda spell had impacted. One more blast clearly would have broken through, and there was a bit of dust still settling on things inside.
The office seemed to be empty, but Damitri noticed with a faint smirk that the plant that did not seem to belong that he had spoken to earlier was nowhere to be seen. The Minister was himself, in this room somewhere. "You called for me, Minister?" Damitri asked, glancing about.
"Oh! Um, yes, of course, Mr. Zabini…" The Minister of Magic, duly appointed leader of the wizarding world, crept out from behind his desk, clearing his throat and dusting off his robes in an attempt to pretend that he had not just been hiding under his desk like a mouse trying to avoid a fox. "Good day to you, sir…"
"And to you, Minister." Damitri returned the pleasantries, but would not remain so for long. He had an agenda to get done and had no intention of allowing this man to get away with taking needed medical treatment away. "We need to discuss this and see if this can be reasoned out." Damitri answered, allowing the man to try to salvage some of his self-esteem and pretend he had not been cowering.
The Minister gave him a completely uncomprehending look. "Discuss? Is there anything to discuss? You'll have to explain, sir, I can't imagine what you're talking about…" he began in a completely innocent tone.
Damitri eyed the man and sighed; his attempts at civility were clearly being wasted. "Since it's abundantly clear that you insist on being dense, I will put it in the simplest terms possible." He said in a tone bordering on sarcasm. He ignored the outraged spluttering of the Minister and continued to speak; drowning out anything the man might have said. "My husband is pregnant. He is a squib. He would be allowed to deliver in St. Mungo's but he refuses to return there. To be honest, I think that they would rather he not return as well and a simple birth will kill him."
The Minister's face brightened; clearly he saw a way to deal with this particular situation. "Well why didn't you say so? I'll just jot down a note to the head of St. Mungo's! He's a close personal friend of mine and as a matter of fact owes me a favor!" He snatched up a quill and parchment and prepared to write. "I will arrange for a special healer…"
"No." Damitri said immediately, cutting off the flow of chatter with that simple word.
The Minister stared at him, uncomprehending for a moment, the quill tip hovered a fraction of an inch above the parchment. "I… what…?"
"No, Minister. I'm afraid a special healer won't do." He answered again.
"Of course it will. I can even have my own healer…"
Damitri scowled, folding his arms. "And how many children from wizards has he delivered?"
"Oh, well, um…"
"And how many children has he delivered for squibs?" He pressed further.
"…well, I… I couldn't say, I..." he stammered.
"As I thought. I will not place the life of my husband and child into someone with little or no experience, sir." Damitri's voice was hard and cold. "I will have a woman whom has proven herself as a skilled maternal healer and who has delivered many children for wizard and witch alike as well as squib parents. I will have a woman who has proven her capability to deal with the special personality of my husband and his delicate mental balance. I will have none other than she for our midwife-mediwitch."
"What…? You can't mean Weasley…!" he spluttered.
"I mean Hermione Weasley and no one else. She enabled us to have a child when I truly held out no hope for that miracle, and I know that she has done that same service to many others. The proof of her aid to others is sitting in the lobby there, and that mark upon your wall..." he pointed at the rounded indentation, "...is proof of just how far they are willing to go to get her back. Everyone in the lobby is in agreement, sir; we will have our medi-witch back."
"But that's not possible! Her punishment was confirmed and set by the full Wizengamot…! It would take a vote of the full Grand Wizarding Council to reverse that sentence and that has never been successfully done!"
"It may have been three centuries ago when it was last successfully done, but it can and will be done." he answered coldly. "Everyone in that courtroom heard you going on and on until you set the first sentence. We all heard that you had a sentence all mapped out for her before she even had her trial; you had determined her guilt without even hearing any evidence."
"I did no such thing...!" he objected immediately.
"There's no point in arguing about facts. At this time, Minister, she has completed her time in Azkaban and we all feel that we have been sentenced to the same sentence you gave to her."
"How can you all be so angry about it? She is serving a purpose; she is serving as a medical worker and tending to the public..."
That drew a bitter laugh from Damitri. "The public? Be more specific, Minister. She is tending to the MUGGLE public! She is not allowed to touch her wand and any performance of magic will send her back to Azkaban!" He answered, and then eyed him. "Or are you claiming that you don't even remember the sentence that you yourself designed to assuage your anger?"
"It wasn't just to make me feel better! The point was for her to understand the mechanics behind healing, not just the magical aspects of it all, I..." he started in a weak tone, trying to defend himself.
"She was going to a Muggle college to learn all of that already." He said sourly, eyes narrowed. "I work as an investigator, Minister, I would be an absolute fool to go to a medical clinic and not have done some background checks on the person I'm dealing with. I know a bit of Mrs. Weasley's background."
"Ah! That's what's important, though! She's back in her classes!" he said as if that was a triumphant event, seizing on it as if it was a ray of hope.
Damitri's glare swept all the excitement out of the man over his last statement. "Yes, she's back in her Muggle College taking Muggle classes while she tends to Muggle women. Meanwhile all of the women and men in the wizarding community who depended upon her and now carry children that she should be attending to are unable to even see her." He said bitterly.
"The sentence was approved by the Wizengamot! Even as Minister of Magic, I cannot change it!"
Damitri, who had never bothered to take a seat, glared at the minister. "I demand that you call for the full Wizarding Council to convene." He commanded quietly.
The minister flushed deeply but did not stand up. "Don't you understand? It will do no good...!"
Zabini moved to the front of the desk and leaned on it with his knuckles, eyes narrow. "One of two things will happen, Minister. The first option is your best choice; you will take action and you call for the Grand Wizarding Council and to get our mediwitch reinstated to her post…"
"But that can't be done; the sentence was set in stone when it was set down by the Wizengamot…" The minister tried to interrupt him, his voice getting squeaky and cracking a bit with desperation.
The older man did not raise his voice at all; in fact it became dangerously quiet. "The second option is that you do what you are doing now; nothing. Then I shall use every ounce of my influence to call an immediate meeting of the Wizarding Council and after I have her reinstated, I shall be sure to have you removed from this post!" He growled quietly.
The Minister paled, sitting very quiet and still for a long moment. Damitri did not move, allowing the promise to hang between them like a thundercloud, eyes locked on the younger man.
The silence stretched and the minister attempted to speak but nothing came out. He coughed, cleared his throat, and then pushed to his feet, still pale. "You can't threaten me like that, Mr. Zabini, I don't care who you think you are. I'm the Minister…"
"At the moment, you are." Damitri straightened of the desk, standing taller than the other man and clearly looking down on him. "What you will be when all this is done and over is clearly debatable at this point. You have thirty minutes. In that time you are free to do whatever it is you wish to do. As I am a member of the Wizarding Council, I will know if you choose to take action or if you don't. In one hour, there will be a meeting of the full council." He stated and turned away.
"I'll try, but…"
Damitri paused, glancing back at him. "That's the problem, Minister. You try, you promise, you speak eloquently but you produce nothing. If it weren't for your Aurors and ministerial staff you'd never get a thing done besides personal appearances. Why don't you ask your secretary to get it done; I have far more confidence in the skills of that woman than I have ever had in you. As far as I'm concerned, your career is over." He said, turning and walking out.
Minister McClaggen stared after him, his knees suddenly giving way as he fell back into his plush chair. Everything was coming apart around him… it was all going to be over, because of this mess, and there was nothing he could do about it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~.
Precisely one hour later, having received a summons to attend a meeting of the Grand Wizarding Council, Damitri stepped out of the floo opening into the grand entryway of the Ministry of Magic. He took a moment to dust himself off fastidiously with his wand and then looked about him. After the defeat of Voldemort, the ministry had felt it was a good investment to repair the old building and make it more inviting to all. The new Office for Nonhuman Affairs was housed on this level, in a new area built on the spot where that horrid fountain had been of the wizards treading on anything not of wizardkind.
Damitri smiled at the meaningful placement of the office and turned, starting to walk to the lifts. The black marble tile that had shone before had been replaced with white marble shot through with hues of gold, making the place seem brighter, warmer, and more inviting. The flooring was not marble, however, but soft carpeting that almost had the feel of grass; he wasn't quite sure what it was but it made little noise when trod upon even by the centaur several paces ahead of him. It was a good change and not made too soon, in Damitri's opinion.
Although the Wizengamot met on level nine for their inquests, the Grand Wizarding Council was to be gathered in the Council Chamber, on level seven. This group was rarely called, but Damitri was determined to see this through and get what was best for his little Terry. He smiled and greeted individuals he knew when he stepped into the lift, being introduced to those he did not. There were new members to the council that he found rather surprising. Up until this year, non-humans were not allowed to be members of any of the wizarding councils though they were frequently called before them in judgment.
"Damitri, this is Secron; he's the Grand Wizarding Council representative for the Centaur nations…" his old friend Todd Grandein introduced.
The tall centaur was dressed in the finest ceremonial garb he could muster. A blanket was draped over his back that appeared to be silken, but the hues changed as the fabric moved down his back and legs until what nearly touched the floor trimmed in tassels was dark blood red. He wore a chest piece that matched that seemed to be armor but was clearly ceremonial as well and bore a tall staff in hand hung with feathers and painted with subtle colors that gleamed and showed astral symbols when the light struck them just right. "It is a pleasure to meet you." Damitri said, granting the man a ceremonial bow.
The centaur eyed him, and then returned the bow without pulling his eyes away. "It is good to meet someone who doesn't tell lies when he speaks to me." He said. His voice was very soft, yet clearly resonated with strength. He appeared to be young, but exuded a sense of calm and control that made everyone around him feel at ease.
"I have no reason to speak falsely to you or anyone else." Damitri smiled warmly. He was going to enjoy this meeting. "I am pleased to see the Grand Wizard Council is allowing others, but it has been years since I could attend a meeting. Tell me, are there any other nonhumans on the Council?" He asked.
"Not yet. The goblins have been granted a seat, but they cannot decide whom they should send to occupy it. The vampires and werewolves are trying to get seats but I have heard they were told they are human, at least partly, and thus are represented already." His friend said.
"The same argument they gave Centaurs for years." Secron commented.
"Bunk and nonsense, that's what it is," The other man scowled. "Absolute rubbish. Werewolves and vampires have different concerns than the run-of-the-mill wizard, and not all of them are wizards anyway…!"
"Well progress takes time… I am glad at least to see that Centaurs are on the council."
"Elves are as well, there is one, and one House Elf. Those two simply do not get along…" the third commented as they moved to their seats in the Council room. Damitri allowed the others to move along and waited near the doorway, intending to speak. In ones and twos the members of the council arrived, taking their seats and chatting quietly for the most part. The elf representative arrived, a humanoid creature with a stature of just under four feet tall yet proportioned properly to reflect humankind. Her slim tapered ears were adorned with several colors of crystals and she was wearing colors of soft gray in a sophisticated and beautiful pattern that made it look as if she floated as she walked across the room.
Damitri knew that Elves were distantly related to House Elves, though elves had rejected the idea of being bound to humans or wizards. Instead, Elves had remained free, hidden for the most part from the wizarding and human worlds until after the death of the Dark Lord.
The house elf representative was clearly one who worked at one of the richer family homes, dressed in a clean towel and looking very clean. He did not hold himself with the same pride as the free Elf, but he did know where his seat was and scurried there quickly.
Finally the seats were full except for one or two that had been unable to respond. The head of the Grand Wizarding Council was a man of almost two hundred years of age, a wizened old man with a beard that brushed the floor in four separate braids. He called for order in a voice shockingly clear, having to only tap his gavel twice before silence fell upon the room. He eyed everyone with a rheumy glance, searching the faces until he found the one he wished. "Minister McLaggen, you have called for this Grand Wizarding Council to meet on the pretext of reconsidering the sentencing laid down by you, as leader of the Wizengamot. Is this correct…?"
"Yes, it is sir." The Minister of Magic stood when his name had been called, looking as pale and frightened as errant child facing an angry schoolmaster.
"I'm much too old to fiddle with niceties, so let's get to the crux of it all. Why do you wish to change the sentence?" He asked pointedly.
McLaggen glanced at Damitri, then back at the head of the Council. "Because to leave the sentence intact is a disservice to the wizarding community as a whole." He answered, finding the words that would make it sound as if this was all his idea.
"Why?" He probed again.
"Mrs. Weasley was working in a clinic that served to give children to witches and wizards who had no hope of bearing children. She had helped dozens within our community who had been barren to have children, doing a great service to…"
"To herself, from what I hear." The wizened old man interrupted. "Did she not use that clinic to create children for profit?"
"Yes, she did, and she has already completed her sentence in Azkaban for that…" the minister answered, trying to make it clear but he clearly was not getting through.
"And why would you wish to suspend her sentence?" he insisted upon a direct answer, irritated at having to ask so many times.
"I want to ALTER it to allow her to serve the individuals whom she aided…"
The man glared at him. "You, sir, are an idiot." He said bluntly, making the minister blanch and several round the room stifled laughter at his statement. "You are a buffoon and I see no reason that we should even consider…"
"May I speak, Grand Councilman?" Damitri asked, stepping forward from the doorway.
The man looked at him, his eyes taking a moment to focus. "Zabini, is it…? Very well." He agreed, taking his seat.
Damitri strode forward to the center of the room, gazing at his fellow council members. He knew what he needed to say and that the Minister never would have gotten this message across. "Hermione Weasley may be many things, members of the Grand Council, but she is not a criminal. It is true that she was put on trial for the stealing of progeny of wizarding families, but she was not aware of what she was doing." Several voices rose in protest to argue but Damitri merely held up one hand to indicate he was not finished; the complaints died down to silence once more. "Despite what was reported in the newspapers, she was not the one stealing the seed that allowed the young to be created. In fact, she had no idea that the essences she worked with were stolen; she was in charge only of doing the laboratory work that created children from them. Once she learned the true nature of her work, she turned herself in to the Aurors, surrendering herself and her wand to them."
He paused to allow the others to absorb this information and indeed several murmurs went about the room. "She did not simply sit in a cell and await her conviction; on the contrary she offered her aid in bringing to light the true nature of the work of those she had been working for. She allowed an Auror to infiltrate the laboratory undetected and aided in the retrieval of files that enabled the return of all the stolen children to their rightful families. She risked her life to get that information for the Aurors…"
"How could working in a lab be risking her life?" someone asked pointedly.
Damitri smiled; he was hoping someone would ask that. "Because, sir, millions of galleons were on the line. The Parkinsons were garnering thousands of galleons for each attempt at pregnancy, successful or not." He answered. "You all know how greed can strike those who do not have wealth; the opportunity to secure such funds is irresistible and any method is acceptable to defend its source." Again murmurs went about the room, his arguments were being considered, exactly as he wished. "And the Parkinsons had killed in the past; what would have stopped them from adding her life to their list?"
"Killed…? Pansy and Malcolm Parkinson didn't kill anyone…!" Someone objected.
"No one who bore a name that you know of. But they did kill. And they did kill more than once, both of them. Malcolm Parkinson killed several children in his mad attempts at creating a perfect child. Pansy Parkinson killed even more children in her lust and greed for money, mostly of the Malfoy and Potter lines."
"Why was that not brought up in the trial of Mrs. Weasley?" The council head demanded.
"Because she as not guilty of it and had no hand whatsoever in those deaths." Damitri answered for the Minister, who looked like he would like nothing more than to crawl under a stone.
"Then why such a sentence?" The Council leader scowled at McLaggen.
"I…" the Minister faltered. His eloquence at speeches was useless in self-defense.
"From my perspective, sir, it was clear that the Ministry needed someone to punish for all the crimes that had been perpetrated by the lab. As both Parkinsons were dead, and Bebel was spirited off by the German Ministry, there was no one left to place the blame on but Mrs. Weasley. Thus the decision was made before her trial that she would be held accountable, to ease the ruffled feathers of the public."
The Minister of Magic had turned white, then red with horror and embarrassed outrage. "That's not true!" He spluttered.
"Although the Minister may defend himself as he wishes, those who were present at the trial of Mrs. Weasley know what they saw. After a very longwinded speech, the Minister pronounced the sentencing on Mrs. Weasley. He did not discuss that sentencing with the Wizengamot as he pretends to have done, he had her sentencing decided before she even arrived that day." Damitri countered, not even looking the man's direction.
"No member of the Wizengamot is to make such decisions without the full agreement of the panel, this is written in Wizarding Laws." Secron said, his voice clear above the murmured shock of the individuals on the council.
The Council leader glared at the Minister. "You made a decision without consulting any others?"
"No! No, I didn't, I… her sentencing did not stand until AFTER it was discussed by the Wizengamot members!"
"But you pronounced that sentence before you consulted with them." Someone else pointed out.
"I knew it would be contested, I wanted to see what the best venue of punishment for her was! She insisted herself that she needed time in Azkaban for what she had done!"
"Even in our society, the prisoner does not get to decree their own punishment." A musically lilting voice was heard; the elf had her head tilted as if confused by the argument. "Why would you allow her to decide she must spend time in such a prison? She only created life; she did not take it away."
"I'm not on trial here! I am just asking to change her sentence!" The minister backed toward the door. "I made a mistake with her sentence and she should be allowed to go work with those she worked with before!"
"Under observation, at least…" The head of the Grand Council now ignored the Minister completely. "Mr. Zabini, as you are personally involved in this situation you must sit out of the decision process… are any others here involved in this in any way?" He asked. Seven council members rose to their feet quietly. One of them was very clearly pregnant. "Humph. Well, I guess you are, without a doubt…" he mumbled, then raised his voice again. "Please step outside with Mr. Zabini while we begin the decision process." He ordered.
Damitri gave the Grand Wizarding Council a formal bow, and then quietly exited the room.