September 23, 1997

There was great intimacy in entering someone's mind, especially with their permission. Percy's was so organized it made me a little bit jealous. It was like an array of filing cabinets in a filing office, the drawers were labeled and I imagined one of them slamming closed on my fingers in defense of his thoughts and memories.

I trailed my fingers along the file cabinet labels. Childhood memories. Mum's recipes. Favorite books.

There was a cabinet for memorizing names of prosecuted muggle-borns. A drawer for names of missing children and people on a watch list that he cleared out regularly for me to deliver to Lucinda and Tavish.

Another cabinet was related to the names of known Death Eaters in the Ministry and where they worked. Another was for the crimes committed in Percy's presence. The bottom drawer had a label for specific rumored events that had other potential witnesses.

I knew he kept a physical copy of all of this in his office with dates and times. We both kept separate physical records. Percy's had more of a focus on dates, times and the people involved. I was recording mine in my journal, I needed a more human element in my record keeping and maybe my stupid little musings would have some value in any future war trials. Lucinda had been keeping a record of each child who came through her doors and what had happened to them to bring them to Thornell. She said if anything happened to her, I was to consult with the portrait of Grandpa Callum and do what was best. It was a vague instruction, considering my portrait-grandfather was unable to speak, but I had no doubt there were parts of Thornell I had never come close to finding.

I paused over the next cabinet taking in the labels on the doors, my face growing warm.

Audrey.

Things Audrey likes.

Things Audrey does not like.

Embarrassing Audrey based fantasies.

I'm not opening that drawer. Some things we can keep to ourselves until we want to share them. I bet it's just me calling him Minister in bed or something.

It might not hurt to have a peek...

No. Not doing that. Every bone in my body says desk sex and I just know I'm right.

Really, I don't need the confirmation.

…At least not right now.

I stepped away from the drawer and wandered away into the darker recesses and alcoves of stray files morphing to high bookshelves on a crooked staircase that squeaked under me as I climbed upwards. I expected it to sway and move beneath me but it was firm and steady, like the handrail I was grasping for balance I did not need until I looked down into the sea of incoherent memories below that changed from family dinners and small trips to my laughing face. The lines of the old wood in the stairs were visible from a thin, but serviceable stain job. Homemade and home crafted, not ostentatious, just wood, nails and a dream.

There was a door at the top of the stairs. It was thick, oak and had seen better days but was still firm. I balanced slightly on the stairs as I turned the brass knob on the door, taking in the coolness of it under my hands.

It was not a bedroom I had been led into like I would have expected outside of the mindscape. I was in a kitchen. It was well lit and homey, a woman with brilliant red hair was cooking something that smelled delicious, she turned and I saw her face as an assortment of plates flew through the air to come to rest on a long table. Oh! This was Percy's mother! I remembered her from Dumbledore's funeral. She had a soft, sweet face with spattering of freckles and warm brown eyes with faint lines forming at the corners. A motherly sort of woman with her hair pulled back and beginning to gray and fade slightly in a few places. I maintained my original opinion that she looked very huggable and like she would slip a child a sweet if given half a chance.

There was a shift, the room was spinning and the sun rose and set in the window on a continuous loop that made me nauseous until it suddenly came to a stop with such force I felt myself lurch forward, gripping the table to instinctively hold myself upright.

It was late afternoon, judging by the light coming through the window and the remnants of a dinner disappearing with a wave of Molly's wand and a few flourishes of Arthur's as they spoke quietly as their children seemed to congregate in the living room nearby for their own meeting.

I think I knew what I was seeing.

There was the loud squeaking of an opening door and I turned my head to see Percy coming into the house with an absolutely jubilant expression as he whistled (I did not know he could do that) some happy song I recognized from the radio.

"I've been promoted!"

There was a delighted shriek from his mother, Arthur's brow was furrowed in thought as his wife hugged her son tightly, asking questions.

I heard a little bit about this, but seeing it was a whole different experience.

"I'm now the Junior Assistant to the Minister himself!"

The tension in the room was so thick I could cut it with a knife.

Percy was puffed up like a peacock, very much resembling the boy I would meet in the months after this event. Egotistical. Proud. Ambitious to his own detriment and blind to the reality happening around him.

The grain of the wood on the dining room table was rough under my hands, a well worn, well used table that held countless family dinners, there was this tension in the air I could feel through the memory, either coming from myself and what I knew, or had colored Percy's memories in the years that followed. In any case, my hair now stood on end and I wanted to disappear.

"Fudge is using you! Do you think you earned this after the inquiry?"

Wrong thing to say. There was a way to swing someone to one's own corner and Arthur had just dropped every bit of leverage he would have had to work Percy over in two sentences.

Percy was an alarming shade of red, from his cheeks to the tips of his ears and climbing up the back of his neck. Percy would never take the blow to his pride in silence.

"All I've done since I joined the Ministry was fight your lousy reputation!"

To Arthur's credit, he did not physically lash out, but that was a low bar for the screaming match I was witnessing. The beginning of a cascade of insults thrown in both directions with the force of an exploding Quod ball. Molly had thrown herself between her son and husband, trying to keep the peace or get the pair to behave in a reasonable manner before ordering her other children upstairs as the shouting grew louder and became more derogatory and risked becoming actively violent. The anger in Molly's eyes almost made me follow the order also, stopping myself from doing so through force of will.

"Fudge is using you to spy on the family!"

"You vastly overestimate your importance!"

I sensibly moved to the far side of the kitchen where I could see the herd of teenagers walking by with varying expressions. I picked out Percy's sister right away, she had her long hair pulled back in a ponytail, the ends drifting slightly over her shoulders as she watched with wide eyes. The twins wore identical expressions of shock and the tall boy at the back looked angry- that must be Ron.

Arthur's voice cut through my thoughts, roaring like a Sasquatch I once heard in the woods on a school trip. "You-Know-Who is back! Dumbledore is the only one who-"

I could hear the herd of teenage footsteps stop just out of sight of where Percy and his parents were in the kitchen. The lack of creaking stairs gave a spooky air to the kitchen conflict.

"That lunatic!" Percy's voice was louder than I had ever heard it and I realized that I had never heard him raise his voice before, he spoke loudly but I never heard him shout. "He can't even run a school with any efficiency!"

"Harry says he came back!"

"Potter," Percy scoffed, his voice dropping in an effort to have more control over this escalating situation, to try and prove himself superior over his father for gaining control of himself for a moment. "He lost his mind from the stress of the tournament! Do you really think you can trust the word of someone who has fits all over the place?"

I didn't like this.

It was too much like the Byrgen House. My memories of Alex leaving were beginning to play behind my eyes as what I viewed in the Weasley family kitchen came closer and closer to a similar memory of my own.

"You're choosing the Ministry's word over Harry-!"

I had seen enough family blow ups in my lifetime, I knew how this one would end. I looked at the staircase where I could see a rogue sock clad foot poking just into my line of sight.

Perhaps watching one's family fall apart from a staircase was a universal experience.

"He talks to snakes!"

Biting my tongue about what exactly Percy was sleeping next to at night was going to be an exercise in restraint. I could pass in normal society as long as I bit my tongue, other people like Thalia could not do so.

I blocked out the rest of the shouting and insults, both political and personal. Percy aiming at the family's financial woes and Arthur's lack of ambition and Arthur's claims of him being ungrateful and power hungry, eager to brown nose his way to power no matter who he stepped on in the process.

That was more than enough for me.

Percy turned for the stairs, his voice rising as he began shouting with an absolutely unhinged look in his eyes. He stepped right through me and snapped at his siblings to move before shoving past them when they did not, Ron taking the opportunity to shout in Potter's defense, before Percy stormed into the bedroom I was sure was his as his father followed, still visibly angry while Molly broke into sobs in the kitchen as I was overcome the familiar white light of an ending memory.

I found myself back in our apartment, staggering slightly as I readjusted to the world around me before sitting heavily on the couch. Simple. Easy. And Percy sitting tensely next to me on the couch, all straight backed with tightened, tense shoulders as I focused on a picture I had hung on the wall of owls in a tree under a dim moon to hurry my mind back to the physical world of logic and thought.

"Did… Did you want me to see that?"

He nodded slowly, his glasses quickly fogging before he reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose and turn towards the wall.

Oh…

My hands folded in my lap as I collected my thoughts and allowed Percy a few moments to collect himself.

Percy heaved a sigh, a tired one, as if he was showing me that moment of his life was not a spontaneous decision. I did not think it was. The memory had lingered too long to be anything else.

"Are you okay?" I put a hand on his knee to get his attention and squeezed it slightly to get him to turn towards me.

"I… regret what I said to a point," he put his hand over mine and leaned towards me slightly. "They were right about everything."

"I think you had a point too," I said slowly. "I thought that Potter was more than a little messed up, surviving a killing curse could leave long term effects on a baby, right?"

"Yeah. It's logical to think that way, but Potter just defies logic."

That earned a quiet laugh from me and a tight grin from Percy.

"I'm sorry you got used like that, but I don't think we would have met if you had not been."

"No, after the Crouch debacle I should have been shuffled off to one of pointless departments, but Fudge wanted a spy."

"Wrong. You were not going to be a good spy for Fudge. If Fudge really wanted a spy, he would have found a reason to fire you or demote you down to a nameless department in a few weeks, but you made his life so comfortable and Elizabeth really liked you. I think you secured your own position." I paused and allowed my thoughts to wander further back. "You were a kid with no oversight, minimal training and clearly too capable to be shuffled off to a stupid department after essentially running International Magical Cooperation for close to a year. Crouch being gone so long should have raised more questions with the senior staff. You were just a convenient scapegoat for their own shortcomings in that regard. A lot of people dropped the ball, not just you." I shifted closer to him, pressing my leg against his. "Honestly, not a lot of teenagers could have run a major international department without everything going horribly wrong. You have a file with the MACUSA embassy by the way, you pissed off Elihu's predecessor that badly for not letting him roll over you."

I bit my tongue on my opinion about how his father could have handled the situation better. It was not my place and I could feel my own complicated feelings about my own family seeping into it. I had learned that I could not paint these similar situations with the same brush, ambitious fathers and righteous sons had far different conflicts than contented fathers and ambitious sons and it was not my place to say anything unless asked.

It seemed a wiser path.

"Oh, have you seen the file?"

I elbowed Percy in the ribs with a laugh, "Yes, you've been labeled a menace and a threat to MACUSA's backdoor dealing potential with the British Ministry. They pray that you never take over a major department."

Or become Minister of Magic, but I could save that for another day.

"Well, tell MACUSA that I'll be happy to spend my career making their lives harder."

"They'll be thrilled." I kissed him on the cheek, squeezing his knee as I rose from the couch to go do my share of the housekeeping in exchange for Percy's cooking. "I'll go start on the dishes."

"Great! I'll try and find the wireless station that's playing your State of the Country."

"State of the Union," I corrected with a chuckle.

"Right, right."

It was an easy pattern to fall into, the low hum of the radio and the tinkling sound of silverware clashing together as I focused on the charm to clean the dishes, directing them into the soapy water in the sink and to the drying rack like a conductor for an orchestra. Really, Percy's mother was very talented, she could be in a separate room and her dishes would wash themselves according to the flashes of Percy's memories I had seen over the last couple of weeks. I could not even step into the doorway and trust this complex cleaning charm to keep going. Instead, I would have to glance through the doorway into the living room where Percy was reading more about patronuses as the radio crackled with the low voice of a woman reading the headline news. Percy claimed that felt he was on the verge of a breakthrough, something I was a bit jealous of, but at least one of us would be able to do something substantial to keep the dementors at bay.

My thoughts continued to drift back and forth about the memory Percy had shown me. The argument had gone off like an expulso curse, as if the issues had been brewing under the surface of a seemingly happy family for a long time.

In any case, Percy or his father having any sort of communication was too risky for us, his family and everything Lucinda was working towards. That reconciled reality could not exist in the world as it was now, Percy and I knew this, even under the clear awkwardness of reaching out on Percy's part.

There were no real answers for our own peace of mind, we were very much at the mercy of forces greater than the pair of us.

I did not know what news station Percy had found that gave the State of the Union Address for MACUSA, but fifteen minutes after I began to wash the dishes, I could hear an American accent in the living room introducing the President and it stopped me midspell, the remaining dishes dropping into the sink with a splash as I stopped to listen.

"My fellow Americans," Jack's voice was smooth and steady as he spoke. "It is my great pleasure, and an honor above all description, to come before you once again to speak of the condition of our great nation and all we hold dear within it."

President Graves was a talented orator, he had a pleasant cadence to his voice, always knowing where to put his emphasis and draw the listening ear of the crowd to issues that he believed were more important. His diction was perfect, he did not allow those little slips of New York accent the way he did on the campaign trail for the Senate. This was a historic speech, and it would be recorded for history, in memory and written down to be studied by political scholars. There would be, could not be, any chance of misinterpretation.

The president spoke of economics, the lowering of taxes, a burgeoning trade deal with India and the new Free Trade Agreements with several small nations in South America who had banned together to try and compete economically with Brazil and Mexico, forming a small trade bloc in an attempt to achieve some political clout that could not be achieved as independent states and negotiators.

Very fascinating. I was wondering how that was working out for them internally. Different cultures, different languages, they could easily break apart due to those differences in the years to come or put those differences aside for political clout. There had always been some degree of unrest in South America and the cultural differences between neighboring countries with regards to magic would not make that any easier to navigate internally.

Every moment left me waiting on bated breath, wondering when there would be words on the state of the United Kingdom and the Ministry of Magic. It was like the dinnertime political talk that I grew up with, how my father always saved the interesting parts of political high drama for the latter half of dinner, when he had a glass of whiskey in his hand and Annette was trying to slip away to read about her latest fixation related to historical burials.

"Now, it is with a heavy heart that I must address the changing tides in Britain."

I moved to the kitchen doorway, leaning against the doorframe as I fiddled my wand between my hands.

"It has come to my attention that in recent weeks, the British Ministry of Magic is imprisoning and prosecuting those wix of non-magical descent, what we here in America commonly refer to as Seeds."

Here it was! Percy had straightened on the couch, closing his spellbook and looking at the radio with a resolute expression that spoke of a combination of relief at the outside acknowledgement of everything that had gone so wrong over the last couple of months.

Jack continued, "Those in power at the British Ministry now believe that the existence of Seeds, or Muggle-borns as they are called there, are the result of nonmagical children stealing magic from grown, accomplished wix." Jack paused for a moment, letting the stupidity of the idea settle over the crowd before speaking again. "I'm frankly insulted by the sentiment."

I would freely admit to chuckling, it was nice to feel sane for a moment in the context of the outside world.

"To be more specific, the British Ministry now preaches the idea that magic comes from the wand like a No-Maj battery. Ignoring the long established and studied concept of magic being inborn, research that MACUSA sponsored at the turn of the century. My administration and I have held back many of our opinions on Britain's handling of this self proclaimed Dark Lord Voldemort-"

Percy made a wheezing sort of noise, reaching for his wand and pointing it at the door with wide eyes, expecting someone to come through it and murder the two of us for an offense committed across the ocean. I felt myself tense involuntarily, but my wand remained silent as the seconds passed and I felt myself relax. Apparently the Taboo did not respond to someone speaking the name far across the ocean.

"America is a nation built on the ideals of liberty and justice, a belief we share with our No-Maj counterparts. This nation is the melting pot of the world, within our borders we share magical traditions from every culture, race and creed reflecting our diversity of experience and commitment to preserving our cultural magical identities and creating our own American identity. We are greater together, stronger together! No matter if someone comes from a magical background or comes into our world as a Seed, there is a place in this country for them to practice the arcane with fear of prosecution for their origins!"

There was a great roar from the crowd that crackled over the airwaves like a cooking stovetop popcorn.

When the crowd settled, Jack began to speak again. "Over the past several weeks, this administration has been drafting a series of documents for the purpose of imposing trade sanctions on Britain and its remaining allies, along with those nations who support their turn towards the status of blood over the contents of one's character."

I felt myself trembling with excitement or dread. It was happening.

"We have enough intelligence about what is happening in Britain to have called for a Sundown vote in both Houses of the MACUSA Congress last week. Adhering to the results of that vote, MACUSA shall call for a council of war!"

"What?" Percy's voice shot through the room in surprise while I waved my arm to remind him to quiet down.

"It's not entirely what it sounds like!"

"A war council, Audrey!"

"It's how we do things!"

Jack's voice came through the radio again, the sound of shock apparently echoed by those in the halls of power back at MACUSA. "It is time for the Governors who sit in the Representative House of MACUSA to return to their home states and fulfill their oath to the Charter. To speak to the people of their states in our town halls, and sit on a council of war upon the reconvention of our government session."

"Natheria's tongue!" My voice was high in shock. "I didn't think he'd be so public about it!"

Percy was waving his hand to shush me as he leaned forward, his knee bouncing anxiously as the radio crackled over a silence from the crowd. No doubt this was already known to those in the chamber, but it was another matter to have the next steps stated so publicly.

Jack paused, allowing his words to sink in for a moment. "This will be a vote for the people of this country to decide what it is that we stand for. To stand on the right side of history means ending trade agreements with a prominent trade partner. It means that this nation has chosen to go to war with a historical ally to take a stand, to hold our ground on these core beliefs that define us as a people. That this is a nation built on hope, a place for the oppressed to find solace, for those who have escaped unspeakable horrors in their homelands to build new lives for themselves and their families in a new world. This has long been our commitment to this ideal of a perfect union within this nation, to build a better magical world beyond our borders, one which we have often vowed to fight for on foreign soil. Genocide and torture are crimes against humanity no matter where they take place in the world and we have a duty to fight for a future where fascist rhetoric holds no sway over any part of the magical world!"

There was a great roar from the radio that distorted the low, crackling noise to an incoherent rush of static and crackling that irritated my ears from the sheer noise of it. The presenter came on and announced the end of the broadcast and wished all the listeners a pleasant evening before a commercial for a multicolored bubble bath came over the airwaves with an eerie clarity. Percy turned off the radio with a flick of his wand.

"He's putting it to the people!" I was rocking back and forth on my heels staring at the now silent radio while I gripped the wall tightly with one hand, not knowing when I had started to do so. "He's crazy! I knew he would do it, I didn't want to believe he would, but that man is crazy for just putting it out there on the global stage!"

I looked over at Percy who looked positively bug-eyed, if he was the type to swear he would have been cursing a blue streak.

"They think Jack is your third cousin right?" He finally said, his face paling.

I nodded slowly, still rocking back and forth as I began to comprehend this level of political madness. "It'll be alright."

"You don't need to go to work tomorrow."

"I do."

"Your father has just delivered a verbal blasting curse to the Ministry. They can't get to him, but they are fully able to get to you in retaliation!"

He was on his feet now, pacing in irritation and I was beginning to think my father was going to be the primary source of conflict in our relationship.

"I'll manage it."

"I don't think these people will be manipulated away from seeing you as a punching bag for Jack's politics!"

I paused, exhaling the breath I did not realize I was holding. "We'll just have to see, won't we?"

Percy walked towards me, "And the council?"

"Elihu needs all of the expats to go and vote in person. He's going to put my name forward as a potential representative to cast a vote on behalf of the expats in Britain."

Percy was rubbing his temple aggressively, groaning in irritation. He reached out and pulled me to him, tucking my head under his chin in one of the tightest hugs I had ever received in my life.

I did not believe that I was in real danger. My file had been burned when Voldemort had murdered Scrimgeour, it had to be rebuilt from scratch and I had taken full advantage of the opportunity. I was valuable. A bartering chip for angry men.

Which only made me press myself more firmly against Percy, my hands grasping the back of his shirt like a lifeline as I drowned in a sea of political possibilities.

I was not comfortable, but I was in the position to deny my father in every possible way until I could no longer do so.

The reality of the situation was that I did not expect to stay in the Minister's Office much longer. Those days felt numbered and I had nowhere to run.

Oo0Oo0

September 24, 1997

Everything was peaceful in the Minister's Support Staff Office, if we had a window that was not constantly showing various forms and levels of rain, drizzle and sunshine simultaneously, it would have been a very nice kind of day and I could ignore the sinking coldness of dread in my guts.

Thicknesse had been prowling around the Ministry most of the morning, I assume making pleasant chitchat with his fellow Death Eater Department Heads. Umbridge had been in and out of the office periodically, interrupting me being able to flutter my eyes at Percy to make him blush at least once an hour while we were the only people there. Well, try to anyway. It usually worked but the ramifications of Jack's speech are still on his mind.

I moved more papers aside, it was all financial papers. Money moving to Umbridge's… I did not want to say witch hunt. Um… Propaganda Office. Yes. That seemed accurate.

Yaxley came into the office like a storm cloud and the thundering noise of the door slamming into the wall, he was clad in gray and black robes with his emblem of office on his chest. I remained seated, giving only a pleasant oblivious smile as he stormed past Percy and I, knocked on the Minister's office door twice before going inside before Thicknesse could fully respond and Percy could get out of his chair to be a courteous assistant.

The door slammed shut behind Yaxley, shaking the walls and the nearby window panes.

Percy and I stared at each other for a moment. A cold sickness brewed in my guts.

It took several minutes for the door to open again, Yaxley's expression was hard.

"Graves!" Yaxley barked, his tone making me jump despite knowing it was coming. "Get in here!"

I exchanged a quick look with Percy, who had quickly gone back to what he was doing with his paperwork, like we had discussed before arriving at work this morning. Head down. Stay busy. Don't look like you care. If they find me out, I'm more valuable alive to put pressure on my father. This is politics. It's all about leverage.

"Yes sir!" I picked up my note taking materials as I stood up.

"Leave it!" Yaxley snapped causing me to drop my portable inkwell to the floor where it managed not to break due to my charmwork.

I found the place inside my mind I was able to retreat too, blocking all of my important memories and identifiers of my web of lies and half truths as I walked calmly into the Minister's Office.

The office was different from Scrimgeour's time, Scrimgeour favored a more practical arrangement, it was the Auror in him. Important things were within reach, the fireplace was not ostentatious and a small lamp to direct his floo calls too was always nearby. Now the office had a deep green carpet, little added gold embellishments on the corners of the desk and fireplace and the portrait on the wall was of a man I knew of to be a historical supporter of wizarding eugenics named, Eustance Bauer, a wispy sort of man with large ears who was leaning against the side of his portrait reading one of the books supplied in his portrait, something I was sure he had written himself in life.

Yaxley slammed the door shut behind me and I struggled not to think of Scrimgeour laying dead on the floor not even a foot away from where I stood or the way I was sure the giant snake, Nagini, had consumed his corpse.

"Please, have a seat," the Minister's voice was low, not threatening but would broker no argument on the matter.

I took the empty seat, crossing my legs at the ankles and folding my hands in my lap, doing my best to appear the part of the demure secretary.

"I-I'm not sure I understand. Have I done something wrong?"

Yaxley moved to stand next to the Minister, who had leaned back in his chair. Both classic power tactics. Asserting one's space and their dominance over it. Looking down on me from a physical place of superiority.

Yaxley was trying to prod my mind and I quietly led him down a panicked memory of misfiling some paperwork of moderate importance.

"There has been news from MACUSA," Thicknesse started slowly. "I suppose you have heard about it?"

"The State of the Union right? I'm afraid I fell asleep and missed it." I tilted my head slightly. "Did something happen?"

Yaxley was red in the face. Thicknesse just smiled pleasantly. "President Graves has seen fit to threaten imposing trade sanctions with Britain and those who support the righteous cause."

"Oh," my hand flew up to my mouth. "I'm not sure what to say, other than to offer my apologies. Cousin Jack has always been hotheaded and I don't imagine his election has lessened his tendencies."

"Clearly!" Yaxley spat, something feral in his expression.

"Now, now Yaxley, that's not why we've asked to speak with Miss Graves today." Thicknesse smiled and it did not seem to reach his eyes. "We were wondering if you could tell us anything… Personal about President Graves." He pulled a file from a drawer, I caught a brief glimpse of my name sprawled upon it in Percy's loopy handwriting.

I controlled my breathing by counting to three. In. One. Two. Three. Out. Repeat.

"I'm not sure I would know anything substantial. Jack allowed me to work for him as more of a political favor than a personal one, our family's are not close. I know how he takes his coffee, half coffee, half Italian Sweet Cream from the corner market."

"Great, we could poison him with his morning toast."

"He likes bagels actually."

Irritating Yaxley up was going to get me in trouble someday, but for now it brought his head closer to exploding and I allowed myself a moment to soak in his loss of control.

"I've met Jack at a few family events though, he's… egotistical. Proud. Arrogant."

I could see Thicknesse nodding slowly, something surely already forming behind his vacant eyes.

"All he's ever wanted was the presidency," I finished with the final grain of truth. Jack was all of those things, but it's easy to hide intelligence and political acumen behind glaring flaws.

Yaxley had crossed his arms, his expression darkening. "He has four children right?"

"Yes." I could feel myself dancing on the edge of the knife.

"I've always thought four children was three too many."

My tongue rested on the roof of my dry mouth.

"Ilvermorny is far better protected than Hogwarts because of our history with Scourers, the Pukwudgies are a vicious fighting force. That's not even bringing in the Aurors who guard the First Family. I don't think getting to his family would be as simple as you think." That was if they got past the fog that was designed to disorient and lead intruders astray to places where their screams would never be heard by man or beast. The school caretakers wielded arrows of poison and knew the school better than any student or professor, the old caretaker who was rumored to be Isolt's companion had ensured that. Those were rumors, Pukwudgies were proud and secretive and they never revealed much about themselves as a group. The protection of the school had kept them protected from those at MACUSA who would wring their secrets from them.

Besides, I had a feeling Annette would be very hard to kidnap and even harder to threaten into being an agreeable hostage. She had already horrified one diplomat with her murder talk.

"Graves is talking about going to war with us."

"MACUSA has not agreed to mobilize our military force since the war against Grindelwald. We threaten, we talk and nothing comes to agreement. He's throwing his weight around." I smiled, "Unless there is a direct attack on MACUSA territory, I don't think you have anything to worry about."

You have everything to worry about. Jack does not take prisoners.

There was disbelief in Yaxley's expression while Thicknesse seemed passive and relaxed as he spoke, "It will take months for MACUSA to organize itself and plan for any sort of assault, besides, I can't think of any great wizards the country itself has produced in the last century."

Professor Imanvir Singh teaches advanced defensive spells at Ilvermorny and the smaller schools on the continent when he's not feeding the hungry. Sarah Maka from the Sioux Tribe is considered to be the most powerful wix on the continent after defeating the dark witch Desdemona Troussaint. Oh, and let's not forget Percival Graves! Honestly, I think Sarah would happily mop the floor with this clown show.

"Besides, I doubt there would be any real long term effect from trade sanctions by MACUSA. They'll just go without cheese and a reduced ease of access to dragonhide."

Tourist money for your coffers. We might not have a lot of dragons, but we have other resources.

"While they have closed the borders to travelers from Britain, that doesn't mean we're entirely cut off from the North American continent."

Right. Canada is a Commonwealth state. They'll be stuck between historic and ancestral ties to Britain and having Jack as a very vocal neighbor. The Canadian Ministry will fall in line with MACUSA, but they'll be slow about it. Mexico has their own issues, but they generally work with MACUSA out of economic interests.

"If that's all you require of me, Minister, I really must return to work."

The Minister waved me off as he continued talking about trade politics with Yaxley who I could feel glaring daggers into the back of my skull before I closed the door behind me to lock eyes with an anxious Percy.

My days in this office were numbered, but I needed to think. I needed to plan. I needed to understand what I had to say to make sure Yaxley did not send me to MACUSA one piece at a time.

Oo0Oo0

Author's Note: I find Jack fascinating. He's a mess of a person in so many ways, but he has this reverence for structure and tradition that both holds him back and pushes forward new kinds of decisions. Magical America has its own issues with cultural magic, the English/ British influence is very strong, but as America finds more of its own identity it's embracing more of the ideas of the indigenous communities, immigrants and welcoming more of that influence.

I'm saving the full view of the Weasley family fight for Luck of the Magpie- which I intend to get back too more seriously after I'm done with my grad program.

Folks, I'm sorry to do this, but the next chapter will be posted September 18th. This dissertation has not been a… well guided experience and I need to edit the thing to the proper format. Not to mention my health issues- I gave up soda and my body just decided that was an awful idea and I should pay the price by being sick on and off through July. Hilarious. The good news is that I am 7000/ 10,000 words in and intend to finish this week.