March 21 2010, 13 years after the fall of the Dark Wizard Voldemort…
From all appearances, the Concord Hotel in Paris was a dime a dozen. If one were to be presented with a lineup of vaguely modern hotels from around the world, they would find it very difficult indeed to identify which one was the Concord. The only remarkable feature of the hotel was that no one was quite sure who stayed at the hotel. For as long as any locals in the area could remember, the hotel always seemed rather deserted. No taxis ever stopped there, no tourists requested directions to the hotel, yet the hotel kept upgrading and improving as time went on. The only thing that did seem to happen was some sort of conference of oddities, as best as people could discern. Every few months, people wearing all sorts of bizarre outfits flooded the streets, bringing with them a bizarre menagerie of owls, toads, and on one occasion some residents swore they saw a dragon. Despite these occurrences, nobody could quite bring themselves to actually investigate what was happening. For some reason, every time someone came close to the building, they physically couldn't bring themselves to enter the building and would later refuse to even go within ten feet of the front door. No one ever got hurt though, so nobody was particularly bothered about checking or complaining to local authorities.
If one was to somehow overcome and enter the mysterious building, it's unlikely that they could ever expect what they would see inside. After all, how could the average non-magical French citizen guess that the Concord was actually the home of the International Confederation of Wizards, the seat of global magical power?
Albus Dumbledore, former Supreme Mugwump of the ICW, once compared the entrance to the Concord Hotel to the Leaky Cauldron, an unassuming door to a world of wonder. That description barely does justice to the ICW. The Concordium, as the headquarters of the ICW was known, was a colossus of marble and gold, resplendent while remaining sophisticated. The symbol of the ICW, 10 wands joint at the tips, held pride of place above a single set of twenty foot doors that all visitors needed to enter through. Inside lies a massive lobby the size of ten football pitches, criss crossed with the historic ley lines that made this the ideal location for the first members of the ICW to meet over five hundred years prior. Gigantic flags hung hundreds of feet above the lobby, glowing softly. Blue flames illuminated the entire scene, with doors across every wall leading towards the individual offices of each nation and their current international representative. Powerful wards across the whole building thrummed, ensuring compliance with the pacts of non violence signed centuries ago by every member nation. Tapestries adorned the walls, depicting great Wizarding battles and triumphs, along with portraits of the Supreme Mugwumps of history, from Pierre Bonaccord through to Albus Dumbledore. At the very end of the lobby, eight mysterious guards(known only as ICW Enforcers) stood at attention on either side of the door to the ICW Chamber of Representatives. There are one hundred seats in the Chamber of Representatives, two for each recognized wizarding nation. The Chamber has been the seat of power in international magical politics for five hundred years, with delegates from across the world convening at every equinox and solstice to discuss matters of international importance. At the moment, that means the future of Wizarding Britain.
Every few hundred years or so, the balance of power in global politics shifts. Since the 1800s though, taking their cue from their non magical counterparts, Magical Britain has held an outsized amount of power and influence on the global stage . Albus Dumbledore's defeat of Gellert Grindelwald only served to solidify that power. This elevated global standing took a hit after the First Wizarding War in Britain, although the work of Dumbledore and Bartemius Crouch Sr over the next decade and a half helped them keep a good amount of that influence as time went on. Dumbledore's expulsion from his major positions in British and world government in the mid 1990s, and the installation of unpopular delegates over the next year along with the outbreak of the Second Wizarding War, saw Britain take an unprecedented fall off from the top. The Ministry from 1995-1998 was intensely disliked by global powers, and the wards that protected the Concordium refused to permit anybody branded by the Dark Mark of Lord Voldemort, hamstringing the Imperiused Pius Thicknesse's administration greatly. The death of Voldemort, at the hands of a teenager rather than through any great work by the Ministry, was enough to at least allow Britain to return to the ICW, but rebuilding their former influence and power seemed impossible. The biggest roadblock, of course, was Britain's need to rebuild themselves. The discovery that the Ministry's accounts had been heavily depleted over the past year, commandeered for despicable purposes such as the Muggleborn Registration Commission, was an unpleasant surprise. Although the confiscation of Gringotts accounts belonging to Death Eaters arrested at Hogwarts helped partially refill the government coffers, they were in desperate need of assistance by the same ICW they lorded over just a few decades ago.
It took apologies and unprecedented concessions by Magical Britain, but an impossibly narrow 51/49 vote went in their favor, promising the British Ministry of Magic that the ICW would loan them enough money and resources to help them rebuild post Voldemort. In exchange, Hogwarts would have to, for the first time in school history, open their doors to around thirty foreign students per year, a new development for a school that had never accepted students not born or raised on the British Isles. The ICW would be granted oversight on the prosecution of Death Eaters and would also be granted unprecedented access to the Wizengamot, along with a voting seat. The Aurors were to be reduced by 25% within ten years of the first loan. Britain was also sanctioned heavily by the American and French governments, both of whom voted against the loans and were eager to take on the global power held by the British in decades past. The ICW imposed a 1% tax on all exports payable straight to the ICW and magical imports were heavily monitored. It was a whole host of concessions, but Britain desperately needed the help.
The road back was long and arduous, and it was a miserable first decade. Ministers came and went without any success in convincing the British public that they were the right people for the job. Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt was the first one, and bore the brunt of agreeing to the unpopular ICW treaty in the first place despite his arguments that it was the only way back for the country. His success in running the Death Eater Trials along with the ICW was applauded, but the nation simply could not stand the embarrassment of being such heavy debtors for the first time in living memory. Shacklebolt would finish out his five year term before retiring from public office to work at Hogwarts as their Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, becoming the first since Galatea Merrythought to hold the post for longer than a year. He was followed swiftly by Theo McLaggen, a popular Auror who had been applauded for tracking down and capturing the Malfoy family, who had disappeared after the Battle of Hogwarts. The confiscation of the Malfoy accounts, which was not possible till the family had stood trial, had been key to beginning to repay the debt the nation owed to the ICW. McLaggen was a good leader, and one that the people adored, but it became increasingly difficult to ignore the man's administrative failings, and he didn't run for re-election after his son Cormac's unfortunate encounter with a particularly prickly Common Welsh Green dragon saw him hospitalized for several months. By 2008, after two full administrations of Ministers with long backgrounds in action rather than administration, the people went for a wily young leader, Roger Davies. The former Ravenclaw Quidditch captain had been forced into retirement after an injury prone five years at Puddlemere United, but had found his true calling as a politician. After a distinguished four years as the British ICW delegate, where he had helped negotiate down sanctions and had managed to convince Supreme Mugwump Kasper Jorgensen to cancel the 1% export tax on British products, he was very popular, especially among business owners and Quidditch fans. His party, the Equilibrium Union, was filled with moderates and combatants from both sides of the Second Wizarding War.
Despite the optimistic outlook of the British public, the watching international community was less impressed. Despite some progress, the first set of repayments was due, and the British were just barely able to cover their costs. Hogwarts was rebuilt, and international students were reportedly fitting in well, but the rest of the country still hadn't been progressing satisfactorily. Blood purity remained a point of contention in British politics, with the newly released Draco Malfoy joining right back into the public scene with the borderline blood purist Conservative Citizens Party. Many major global players were openly dissatisfied with Britain's progress, but nobody expected the topic of discussion that would be broached at the Spring Equinox meeting of the ICW.
The first meeting of the ICW every year was never a very eventful occasion. Every nation in attendance typically outlined their schedule for the upcoming year, ran through an overview of the nation's compliance with whatever requests previously made of them along with regulations, and then went into a series of debates and unmoderated discussions on policies that would be lucky to get voted on before the fall equinox. Occasionally, newly independent magical communities would come to petition for ICW membership, typically with the backing of a bigger nation that could rally votes from allies. For that reason, when Supreme Mugwump Jorgensen recognized Marty Williams, the delegate from America, nobody expected what he would have to say.
Marty Williams was a small, stocky man. Born in the magical community in Atlanta, he had a chip on his shoulder and had worked to rise up the ranks of MACUSA. Although he was far from being friendly with the British ministry, who he viewed as incompetent, he was generally more amenable towards cooperation with their government than any of his predecessors had been.
"Thank you, Supreme Mugwump. Fellow delegates, I'm sure I'm not alone in being worried about the misappropriation of ICW resources by our friends over in Britain. For the past decade, we've entertained platitudes and excuses by the steady stream of delegates from London who have assured us that yes, they do intend to change, and that our money is being used to accommodate this rebuilding process. Yet I fear that I have seen no such real progress. Their economy has only just recovered, and they are just barely able to meet their repayment deadlines. I'm not sure that a nation still relying on confiscating terrorist bank accounts has much of a chance at reliably paying us back. Additionally, the return of former Death Eaters into their political scene raises alarm bells that my government simply cannot ignore. For that reason, I would like to propose the beginning of increasing ICW presence in the British government, starting with further scrutiny of their financial situation. Clearly we need more oversight in Magical Britain, not less. I hope all of you here agree." Williams finished talking and sat down, looking pleased with himself.
All of a sudden, the room erupted with noise, with no less than fifty delegates rising up and shouting over one another. None were louder than Delegate Charles Fawley, the British delegate to the ICW. It took five attempts by Supreme Mugwump Jorgensen to bring quiet to the room, before he finally gave up and used the powers he had over the warding in the Concordium to forcefully silence the whole room. "Delegate Fawley, SIT DOWN! You will not be warned again." Jorgensen took the moment of silence to call for any speakers who wished to be recognized, before selecting Charles Fawley to speak again.
"My apologies, Supreme Mugwump. My emotions took over and I conducted myself poorly. I would like to strongly rebuke the claims made by the delegate from America, and demand an apology. Our nation is still recovering from two civil wars within a thirty year period, and are actually recovering ahead of schedule considering what we have encountered. As for the other concern, manipulating who is allowed to participate in the democratic process would render our system inherently not democratic. If the ICW feels this step is necessary, Britain will comply, but we cannot stress strongly enough how negatively our populace will receive this."
Fawley was clearly incandescent, but there was nothing he could truly do. Britain had no real bargaining power, and everyone knew it. After some more speakers from France, the Balkan Collective, and Brazil spoke up, Supreme Mugwump Jorgensen ended the meeting early, with a motion to return in two weeks after each delegate could convey the suggested American proposal to their governments and have more informed debate. Fawley and Marie Stevenson, the two British delegates, left with dread in their hearts. No one wanted to be the person who told the Wizengamot what had just occurred. More importantly, nobody wanted to be the one to tell Roger Davies that his elaborate plan to bring Britain back, the promise he had risen to Minister with, was about to fall crashing around his ears.