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Waiting
Author: Hermione Granger
Date: 04-06-09 09:05
After numerous meetings and planning sessions between members of the Order of the Phoenix, the Resistance Movement, and other allies interested in making a difference in the world, the day to raid the Ministry of Magic had finally come. Dumbledore and several others carefully coordinated every single step to ensure the maximum possibility of success, though everyone involved knew that anything could happen at any time and that flexibility and spontaneity were key in case something changed without warning.
Hermione was one of the first in her group to arrive at their designated meeting point, a block away from the visitor's entrance to the Ministry of Magic. She wore tennis shoes, blue jeans, and a gray and pink patterned sweater. Her wand was up the sleeve of her right arm, ready to be withdrawn at the slightest notice.
The sun shown overhead, but rain clouds had formed in the distance. Hermione hoped that it would stay dry as long as she waited for the rest of her group to arrive. She didn't want to leave the meeting spot to seek cover from the rain, though a covered storefront porch was in the vicinity and she could easily go to it in case the rain came quickly.
She didn't have to wait long before others joined her in the spot. Some were other Order members, some belonged to the Resistance, and others were newly recruited. Hermione was glad for the recent growth in their numbers, because she believed that their current undertaking was so massive that they could use all the extra help they could get.
When at last all from the group arrived and the official time came to move in on the Ministry of Magic, Hermione and the others moved en masse to their destination.
Lost In London
Author: Ginny Weasley
Date: 04-06-09 16:39
A more modern looking camera than she's used to in hand, Ginny waves it around asking the others in her small group, "Bunch up closer."
Harry holds a map of the sort commonly seen in the possession of tourists. Everyone in their little group is wearing the casual clothes of people gawking about London taking in the sights: t-shirts, jeans, sneakers, and caps with visors that have logos on them that mean nothing to Ginny.
She's unregonizeable as a Weasley with not a single freckle evident, a smashing caramel tan, startling bright green eyes, and curly blonde locks that fetching frame her face. Anyone from the Ministry using the employee entrance they're approaching wouldn't know any of them as people on the Ministry's wanted list, most especially Harry.
Thinner from his Community Q experience yet at the same time with rippling muscles from it, Harry's a nutty brown from being outdoors so much and his hair is considerably lighter thanks to the natural bleaching of the sun. There is no scar visible on Harry's forehead and Harry's own green eyes are now a shade of brown that every time Ginny looks into Harry's face, those eyes make her think of scrumptious chocolate sweets.
As soon as Ginny snaps the group photo Harry, Phin Hodfuffer-Flefforfore and Dean Thomas put heads together over the map, arguing about where they are versus where they want to be. The three women in the group keep saying, "Why don't we just ask," with the guys shaking heads and insisting they've got everything under control.
Using employee entrances as part of the raid on the Ministry was Jet Obsidian's idea and a bloody good one in Ginny's opinion. Sure, going in via different entrances splits them all up but now they can all go in pretty much at the same time. If they'd mainly used the visitor's entrance and the Floos as initally discussed, they'd have had to go in waves.
Nearly to the entrance, which looks like nothing more than an accessway for repairmen, they slow even more as Harry, Phin, and Dean pretend to squabble over the map. Ginny and the other two girls make a show of rolling eyes and pouting prettily, asking the guys to just hurry up and make a decision because before the day is out they would really like to see some of London. Ginny every now and again snaps a picture of the group members, making little jokes about documenting their day Lost in London.
Waiting For The Raid To Start
Author: Jet
Date: 04-07-09 08:57
Since arriving at the Ministry this morning Jet's been trying with moderate success not to appear jittery or as if he's clock watching. Then again, in the Department of Mysteries clock watching could be considered a valuable experiment and research.
There are so many things that could go wrong today, starting with Ministery Smythe-Jones deciding not to come in today afterall. This particular day was chosen for the raid with great care. All Ministry employees who work mainly within the Ministry itself have all been putting in longer hours, pulling double shifts but weekends still tend to have fewer people in the office. The fewer the people inside the Ministry when the raid begins, the lower the risk of people getting caught in the middle and killed.
The Ministery is only in on weekends some of the time and often she'll drop in for a short period on a Saturday or Sunday, with no regularity in her weekend schedule. Today though Euphemia Smythe-Jones has a meeting called. Memos went out a couple of weeks ago informing certain department heads of it. Memos have gone out regularly since then with reminders and agenda updates.
A day with few employees than the rest of the week plus the knowledge that the Minister is to be in the office was too good of a date to pass up for the raid. One possible glitch in the plan is that Smythe-Jones will have decided to delegate someone else to oversee the meeting. As of this morning when Jet arrived the Minister hadn't changed her mind about attending her own meeting but that doesn't mean that when the actual meeting time arrives, she won't have sent word for someone else ot take over. She's done it before.
Restless, his mind not at all on the project at hand, Jet decides to work off some of his nervous energy by poking around in one of the vast storerooms used to house a huge variety of items from the Department of Mysteries. He'd go kill time by fiddling with other people's unattended projects but after nearly getting caught two days ago doing something to set back one of the Minister's pet projects by months, Jet doesn't want to take the risk today of doing something that will muck up the raid plans. Exploring one of the storerooms will be interesting and who knows, maybe he'll find something of great use.
Noting the time as he gets up from his work, Jet makes his way through the odd corridors and work spaces that make up the Department of Mysteries. Like every other department, it's busy with people who are trying to stay ahead of the onslaught of work to be done when the Minister keeps pulling people and reassigning them to cover vacancies left by Nons and by people she's sending to work as guards and other staff at the various prisons still in operation, of which there are still far too many.
Reaching the storeroom Jet had in mind, one he's never been in before, he looks at his pocket watch again then enters, hoping that he'll find something so engrossing he won't mind the time left to wait for the raid to begin.
Sick
Author: Lucius Malfoy
Date: 04-07-09 15:09
Euphemia Smythe-Jones's head looms largely in the fireplace, her scowl so fierce that if a fire weren't already going, that look would be enough to start one. "I don't care if you are sick, Lucius. Get down here this instant!" the Minister of Magic demands.
Voice so sore, dry, and hoarse he can barely speak, Lucius tells her the opposite of what she's wanting to hear. "Sick. Can't make it."
The Minister's eyes narrow and Lucius isn't but what so sure that if she were actually there in person she'd Imperius him to attend the meeting. "You look presentable and well enough to me," Euphemia insists.
Shuffling closer to the fire Lucius croaks, "Then you aren't seeing what I see when I look in the mirror."
Lucius's usually fastidiously put together self is draped in his favorite warm, soft, squishy robe over a pair of equally soft and warm flannel pajamas that have seen better days. His hair, which either needs to be trimmed or he needs to let it grow longer, is disheveled and flattened to the back and one side; there are creases on cheeks that are more wan than usual and that have bright spots of feverish red; eyes are puffy, bloodshot, and watery. Lucius's nose is redder than his cheeks and can't make up its mind whether to stream constantly or be stopped up, often compromising by doing both at once. Lucius's ears hurt and he's often got the sensation of being underwater with sound filtered and pressure building. His throat is so sore that swallowing takes a huge effort and between the soreness and a dreadful cough, Lucius finds speaking difficult.
Lucius also feels somewhat lightheaded so he backs up a little to his favorite fireside chair and sinks down, his entire body but most especially his head aching from the effort. "Am too sick to come," he says again.
Euphemia's tone is scatching. "Merlin's beard but you are being a baby, Lucius. Stiff upper lip and all that. "
"Contagious."
"Get dressed or come as you are, I don't care. If I have to be in a meeting on a Saturday, so do you. That's an order. What did you say?"
"I'm contagious. Carina's not even in the house."
"It's a very large house, Lucius, and she's a very small child."
"Didn't want to risk giving this to her," he unapologetically croaks.
"You're certain it's contagious?"
"Half of City of Hope came down with it after I did and two of the healers I've seen have it now as well."
Eyes narrowing again Euphemia reminds, "I can easily check your story, Lucius, and should I find you are being less than honest with me, you will regret it."
Lucius looks directly at Euphemia's big head filling up the fireplace. "Would take a blood oath."
"Be aware I am not pleased."
"Yes, fine, whatever you say. I'm going back to bed now," Lucius says getting up and shuffling off, not looking back once while Euphemia rants at someone there in the office with her then severs the Floo connection altogether.
Back in his bed, Lucius scrunches down under the covers, feeling so awful that for once he wishes he were going to a Saturday meeting instead of being home sick in bed.
Solo
Author: Sage Porter
Date: 04-07-09 17:15
Jared and Alanna had invited Sage to go into Hogsmeade with them but the DeMarcos are visiting Saffron so Sage wanted to say hello in case he misses seeing them later in the village. After that Sage sought out Deak who's still doing penance for being caught with an invisibility cloak. If you ask Sage, Yaxley seriously overreacted with the punishment he doled out to Deak. Sage wonders if Yaxley had used some form of physically painful punishment like a Cruciatus Curse if Deak's detention would have been shorter.
Probably not.
Sage had found Deak on hands and knees scrubbing and scouring the floor of the Charms classroom. After finding out of Deak wants anything from Hogsmeade Sage had been almost to the hall when Deak spoke again, having Sage come back to where Deak was working. They'd had a hurried, whispered conversation about whether they each thought Drake was hiding something from them when Drake had come for dinner in Saffron's quarters three nights ago.
Hearing someone coming, they'd quickly broken apart from their head against head conversation, Deak returning to the scrubbing and Sage saying, "When I get back from Hogsmeade I'll put the things for you in your room."
Sage had hurriedly left then, just in case whomever they heard was Yaxley or someone who might report to Yaxley that Deak was slacking off when he should have been working.
Halfway to Hogsmeade now, Sage can't stop thinking about how Deak also thinks Drake's keeping secrets. That's not surprising seeing as how Drake's part of the Resistance. It's just that Deak and Sage both feel that this particular secret relates to Aaron. If it's bad news about Aaron, why keep it a secret unless Drake feels that none of them would be able to hide grief for someone the Ministry took away and whom they shouldn't know anything current about.
Reaching the village, Sage also can't help but wonder what it would be like spending the day with Georgia Copperpot. He has no idea why he's become more and more fixated on her. The girl is slightly unbalanced and seems to be on the obsessive side. She's also cute, funny, and is probably a really good snogger.
Reaching the bakery, Sage goes inside with the thought of burying all these stray thoughts with sugar. When it's his turn, Sage gets a slice of lemon chiffon cake along with a dozen chocolate chip biscuits and another dozen with chopped up caramel chocolate nouget bars. After going on and purchasing some things for Deak as well, Sage takes his purchases outside to wander the lanes of Hogsmeade, trying not to dwell on the fact that NEWTs are almost upon them and Da is pressuring Sage to stay in England doing whatever it is Da decides should be Sage's future career.
Feeling the stress and pressuring of everything crashing down on him, Sage finds a good spot to plop down and gorge on his bakery buys, thinking only about enjoying the food and what Georgia would have gotten were she here.
Phony Visitors
Author: Fritz Schnackenpfefferhausen
Date: 04-07-09 17:31
A man in his thirties with jet black hair and piercing green eyes enters the red telephone box that serves as the visitor's entrance to the Ministry of Magic. He carries with him a woven basket in which sits a tabby cat with square markings around its eyes. For a moment, he hesitates and glances out the window at the queue that has lined up outside the box. The one person nearest the box gives him an encouraging smile.
The man turns back to the telephone, picks up the receiver and dials 6-2-4-4-2. When the welcome witch answers as if she is speaking from an invisible source somewhere inside the box, the man hangs up the phone and loudly and clearly states his name and business.
"Aron Melton. I'm seeking a building permit on my wife's behalf for an addition to our house––a play area for our cat Frou-Frou. She's just come from the veterinary healer and is a little loopy from the anesthetic potion she was given. I hope it's all right that I bring her along."
The man's name isn't really Aron Melton. He's not in his thirties and he doesn't have a wife, though he does have a kneazle named Domino. The cat in his basket isn't really named Frou-Frou either.
It was Fritz's decision to come to the Ministry of Magic in disguise, though he doesn't believe he would have been recognized without one since he's never done anything to make himself known in the wizarding world. He's discovered, however, that it's easier to lie when one looks like somebody else.
Changing his looks is the easy part, but he really has to concentrate on the British accent he's trying to use to cover up his natural German one. If the look on Professor McGonagall's feline face is anything to judge, so far he's doing well playing the part of the devoted husband and cat lover.
A visitor's badge pops out of the phone. It has Aron Melton and Building Permit printed on it. Fritz removes it from the slot on the phone and pins it to his robes.
The telephone box starts to move, and a minute later it stops and the door swings open. Fritz steps into the Atrium, just as several people enter through the fireplaces.
Starting The Meeting (Euphemia Smythe-Jones)
Author: Harry Potter
Date: 04-08-09 15:20
Livid with Lucius Malfoy for pleading sickness not to attend the conference she'd called, Euphemia is also furious at how nothing has been exactly as she'd hoped. She can see so clearly now that she didn't phase things in slowly enough. Euphemia is a big enough person to admit she made some poor choices in moving forward as rapidly as she did with elimination Nons. She freely admits her blunder, though not aloud and definately not when anyone else is around.
Euphemia hopes that today's meeting will put them back on the path to success. Although she detests giving up her Saturday for anything work related, getting as many of those she's wants to attend actually in the meeting means either a night meeting or something on a weekend. With so many working far more than they used to, an evening meeting during the week doesn't necessarily ensure she'd get the highest attendance possible. A Saturday or Sunday is better because those she most wants here are more likely to have scheduled themselves some weekend time. Euphemia has plans for Sunday that she is not about to change, plans in place for four months now. With her other social engagements, Saturday, the 24th of May was the best date to pick so two weeks ago Euphemia sent out memos.
The meeting is mandatory but as with Lucius a few have found so called valid reasons not to attend. No matter. They'll soldier on without those few and if those few have any complaints about the decisions reached today Euphemia will simply Crucio them five or six times. That will teach them to not show up for mandatory conferences.
Fresh cup of tea in one hand, Euphemia enters the room on Level 1 where the meeting is being held. Going straight to the chair that is clearly hers and therefore left vacant by the others, Euphemia raises a hand in a gesture to get everyone's attention.
Still standing she says, "Let's jump right in, shall we."
Formally calling the meeting to order while easing into her chair, Euphemia gets quickly to the entire point of the meeting.
"I have listened to the requests for more personnel. I have listened to the points made about why we have lost some of the communities. I have a new proposition that will solve the main worker shortage as well as reduce the need for the number of communities. Part of the reduction in communities will come from a consolidation of the existing ones. That alone will reduce the number of workers required to staff them, allowing us to shift some personnel back to the Ministry."
Euphemia pauses to take a sip of her tea, eyes roving around the conference table. The Lestrange brothers are sitting next to each other. Such a disappointment those two have been. One allowed a mass breakout at his community and the other allowed that vile reporter Rita Skeeter inside his. That created such a PR nightmare, one that the Ministry is still grappling with all these weeks later. Why, they had to shift the Nons there to other communities and replace them with low level criminals, those who'd committed minor crimes. They then invited the press in to see how Rita Skeeter had exaggerated, how the Ministry is experimenting with a new model prison for those who deserve incarceration but who do not deserve to spend it in such a high security, miserable place as Azkaban.
After one more sip of tea, Euphemia gets to the meat of the matter and reveals the plan that in hindsight should have served as a bridge between the initial rules regarding Nons with such actions as the segregation of classes at Hogwarts to shipping all the Nons off to prison communities.
"Nons are doing some of the work but clearly not enough of it. To help with the workload, to unburden Pures so that they may enjoy life, Nons will once again fill job positions. They will provide much needed labor and will do so without benefit of a wage."
Rabastan Lestrange dryly comments, "In other words, they will be slaves."
Euphemia raises one shoulder in a slight shrug. "Call it what you will. They will earn their keep and take the stress off the Pures who are trying to fill in all the gaps, cover all the shifts."
"Would they be allowed wands?" someone asks.
"If one is necessary for the work being done. They would be restricted in what they would be allowed to do. In fact, we have a wand in developed that would work only for certain spells and charms."
"A programmable wand?"
"Something like that, yes," Euphemia nods. She gestures down the table. "I believe a prototype is ready for demonstration."
Settling back into her plush chair to watch the demonstration, Euphemia and the others in the room are unaware that the meeting will not end with a desirable conclusion.
The Atrium
Author: Bill Weasley
Date: 04-08-09 17:18
The fireplaces along one side of the Atrium came alive all at once. A dozen or more wizards arrived, each clutching his or her wand. For the most part, their combined appearance caused little stir. Less wizards than had been seen in the Atrium since time's past bustled to and fro and more than a few of those present had far too much on their minds to give the newcomers any notice.
One wizard did notice, though. The watch wizard took in the sight of the new arrivals with mingled curiosity and trepidation. For the first few seconds, he merely watched, but then he slowly rose to his feet and reached for his own wand, which he kept in a narrow pouch strapped to his leg. He never found the opportunity to use it because an immediate, unspoken spell launched it from his hand and sent it careening across the room. It narrowly missed the waters of the Fountain of Magical Brethren and clattered loudly on the polished, dark wood flooring.
A half second later, someone cast the Body-Bind Curse on the watch wizard. He fell, completely rigid, to the floor next to his desk.
Where the arrival of the obviously armed wizards did little to draw the attention of the instrospective Ministry employees, the attack on the watch wizard did. Two nearest the outgoing fireplaces flooed away immediately. Another drew his wand in an attempt to duel, only to find himself quickly disarmed. A fourth seemed to hesitate before gradually holding up his hands and backing towards one of the fireplaces. The group allowed him to go, relying on good faith that he wouldn't sabotage them in the end.
A portion of those assembled remained in the Atrium to keep the area secure while another went into the cafeteria. Bill, having dyed his trademark red hair chestnut brown and having added fake scarring to his face, stood by the lifts in case someone stopped on Level 8, the Atrium. Every second seemed to tick by in excruciatingly long fashion, but no one came to Level 8 via the lifts.
Another group emerged from the fireplaces, just as the second half of Bill's emerged from the cafeteria.
"Level 8 is secure––for now," Mad-Eye Moody growled to all assembled. Half stay here, the rest go on. Level 9 and Level 10."
While Moody stayed behind with the newly arrived group of Order of the Phoenix and Resistance Movement members, since the Atrium could possibly see Ministry employees and visitors arrive via several different venues, Bill and the rest in his group called the lifts. To their surprise and luck, none of them bore riders. Bill stepped into one with several of his comrades and headed first for Level 9, where the Department of Mysteries was located.