Children are so used to seeing puppets that when they see a real ventriloquist they don't understand it.

Paul Winchell


frowns on chapters that are simply author notes, but this chapter is just to say that despite the ridiculous delay, I don't plan on abandoning this story. It's just taking me a long time to get back on the horse as it were. I really am sorry, please bear with me.


Courtroom ten was jam-packed. Which, in of itself, wasn't unusual. The Wizengamot had retreated to the chamber often during the post-war clean up.

But not generally at 3am.

The sounds of the hushed chamber were muffled and occasionally broken as member after member shuffled into the hall and along the towered row of benches. Some still wore their nightclothes, having hurriedly thrown their deep scarlet robes over the top to attend the hastily drawn emergency meeting.

Others, however, were immaculately dressed; their robes pressed and tidy and their procession to their seats marked with the self-important air of those who knew something they shouldn't.

As the night delivered in the steadfast trickle and the room quickly filled, the hushed whispers drew weight, ministers leaning across benches to determine the reason for the gathering. Those dressed answered in nothing more than smug smiles, while others speculated in curious tones. As the doors closed once more, and two bedraggled members found their seats, the Minister finally brought the chamber to order. Once the crowd of disgruntled witches and wizards finally seceded to the calming gestures of Dawlish, he began.

"Ladies and Gentlemen of the Wizengamot, I thank you for your speedy attendance of this evenings session. Given the lateness of the hour, and your desire no doubt, for your beds, I hope you'll all be amenable to skipping the formalities. Suffice to say, Undersecretary Atkins will take the minutes, and we will dispense with the normal roll call to instead reach the heart of the matter." Without so much as a pause, Dawlish ploughed on, calling for a formal vote. "All in favour of abolishing a formal roll call and introduction?"

Before the crowd had chance to call their response, the imposing double doors opened once more, painting the dim chamber awash with light. A sharp figure stalked into the hall, boots ringing upon the mosaic floor giving weight and form to the shadowed silhouette of flaring robes.

"I believe it's customary to have all Wizengamot ministers at an emergency address." The deep voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt sent a stream of whispers hissing into life once more, throwing the chamber into disarray and distracting attention from the now floundering Dawlish.

"… and of course, when I say customary, I mean legally mandatory."

Dawlish gaped comically on the podium, looking from the form of Kingsley striding to the centre of the courtroom to his notes, as if in vain hope of a cue or lost line. A few moments of strangled silence made it quite apparent this entrance was not detailed in his cue cards. The voices in the hall were cut off instead, from a far calmer tone in their midst.

"How grateful we are, Minister Shacklebolt, to have you to remind us of these pertinent details- and to deign us with your punctuality."

Theodore Burges was never one for theatrics. Even now, his tone was dull and unexcited, never straying into sarcasm, and yet the words were so carefully constructed, so laconic that any other minister might have blushed then, or bowed off the Dias in embarrassment.

Kingsley only stooped his head in acknowledgement, and remained exactly as he was, standing defiantly in the centre of the room. Burges smiled thinly, not riding to acknowledge Kingsley's placement in the room.

"As you were saying minister", he coolly began, prompting the still spluttering Dawlish to his speech once more.

"Oh, yes. Right. Well, yes, seeing as this is not an ordinary drawing of the chambers and we have no other council chambers to discuss- I'm sure we're all in agreement that dispensing with the prescribed formalities is acceptable."

"I'm afraid I do have a matter for discussion Minister."

"I- Uh" Dawlish's mutterings were almost overshadowed by the fierce shade of puce his face had achieved along with his frankly murderous scowl.

"Mr Kingsley." Burges once again remained seated, his tone that of someone no longer amused with a small child's charms. "Delighted as the floor undoubtedly is to hear from you again, do you truly believe quarter past three in the morning is the best time for ordinary chamber practice?"

"No sir, I do not."

The heads of the Wizengamot twisted between the bored tone of Burges and the calm, defiant measure of ex-minister Kingsley. Despite Burges jest it was clear the crowd was, if not delight, than certainly intrigued by the wizard's interruption. Somebody outwardly provoking both the minister for magic and Teddy Burges was entirely unprecedented. While half of the chamber pitied the outspoken fool, and the rest envied his gall, all were in accordance believing him insane.

"But this is not, as you say, ordinary chamber business. The minister has called together today an emergency session of council, which formally counts as an instance of Consilium Articulae. As he has not yet voted to dispense the formalities, any member of the Wizengamot is at liberty to introduce the first topic to the floor as outlined by the third chronicle of the Decree of Wizengamot Order."

There was no more than a heart beat in the silent room before Burges shot back.

"And as you've stated, the Minister has just petitioned a vote to dispel with the formalities."

"No. He-"

"All those in favour of the Ministers motion."

Teddy Burges hand was listless as it hung in the air but that did not hide the power it wielded- just as a puppeteers movements were agile and largely unnoticed, Burges hand raised the arms of half a dozen chamber members in the space of half a second. The strings were almost entirely invisible, besides the fact that every last one of the puppets were proudly dressed in perfect costume.

Slowly, however, it dawned on the puppet master that the dishevelled, pyjama clad ministers, uneasily glancing between the minister, Kingsly and himself, outnumbered the smartly dressed arms in the air.

The whispers in the hall rose higher and higher as it became increasingly apparent that the minister's notion had been defeated and Dawlish stood too flummoxed to draw the vote. Kingsley eyed the minister before raising his hands, asking somewhat mockingly, for permission to continue. About three quarters of the chamber had been bought or intimidated, by Kingsley's reckoning, but that was before he'd planted the seeds of doubt. The minister's efforts to silence him has only strengthened the courts desire to hear him out. Even puppets, it seemed, could see the strings at work, and no one liked being roped along for a fool.

"Mr Atkins, fetch the third chronicle and monitor the proceedings. Mr Kingsley is determined to bore us all with the letter of the law." As one of Teddy's cronies rushed to his bidding, Kingsley steeled himself.

You have one shot. One very, very slim shot.

"Well? What all important matters do you have to being before the council" Dawlish's attempt at sarcasm only served to paint him as a petulant child who hadn't got his way. Kingsley stalked calmly across the Dias, his boots clicking loudly over the intricately tiled floor. He could feel every eye of the room upon him and could taste the suspended breath in the air.

"I bring to the chamber, my resignation from the Ministries Auror office-"

The outbursts of the crowd were immediate, but Kingsley plunged on regardless

"- In protest of a government that intends to force innocent civilians into marriages on the basis of blood status."

With each word the flurry of the crowd grew, and Kingsley was forced to raise his voice to be heard

"-that intends to threaten their people with imprisonment; that intends to drug pregnant women. I resign in protest of a government who will achieve their aims at any conceivable expense, through lies, threats and corruption."

Kingsley hadn't managed to finish his sentence before the clamour of the crowd reached staggering heights. In the rabble of outraged shouts it was unclear which half of the crowd called for his silence and removal from the floor, and which shouted in confused outrage at his claims. Dawlish had abandoned his fumbling attempts to call order and simply stood in the midst of the storm, looking to Burges for direction.

Theodore Burges was the only minister in the room still seated.

No.

Kingsley couldn't call it seated.

The man was reclined laconically in his chair, the image of an emperor of Rome lazing on divan, watching the sacking of Rome pan out. Except his gaze was not focused on the crowd, on the shouts of outrage or indeed the confused look of his underlings. His stare was fixed on Kingsley as he slowly revealed a thin, tight-lipped smile.

Even as the crowd clamoured the roaring sound of his triumph, Kingsley's gut pulled.

He knew, just as Burges did, that it wouldn't be enough.

It had always been a very slim shot-Perhaps far slimmer than we expected.


A/N: I figured uploading something- anything!- might help me get back on track. Apologies for the short chapter.