bend towards justice

if you want something done right, do it yourself- Millicent Bagnold future Minister for Magic

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septimaxx:

“I’m sure it is…” Septima laughed lightly, as she shook her head, “I’m just afraid it’s not much of my style, but if you do decide to start standing on tables at work, I would give anything to be a fly on the wall at those meetings,” the professor grinned, “Now that would be entertainment! Not to mention I love to see you stick it to all your colleagues.”

In many ways Septima missed their Hogwarts days. It seemed back then that their world was so different then. But much to the professor’s pleasure, nothing had seemed to have changed between herself and Millicent, still as close friends as ever.

“Well, I’ve made some rather exciting developments in my studies of the predictive properties of the number nine. Did you know that it’s the sole, non-prime, odd, single-digit number? It’s truly remarkable!” Septima replied excitingly, before realizing Millicent could probably care less about the number nine, “On a more relevant note, I was interested in looking into the connections between arithmancy and elections and thought now would be the perfect occasion to do so. What do you think?”

     ‘Hey, if the number nine -- or honestly any other number than voter polls -- can do anything to help be beat Lestrange, call me a convert.’

She’d never really been one for Arithmancy in school -- she’d taken it, sure, for fifth year year, before giving it up to put Muggle Studies back on her schedule, but even though she knew it was a useful subject she’d never quite been able to convince herself that numbers had much more meaning or magical property than was immediately apparent. The way Septima talked about it, she always wished she’d been more interested in it when she’d had a chance to learn about it. But she’d been more focused on concrete things, in school, and they’d grown up, somewhere along the way. 

     ‘How would that work? I mean, believe me, it sounds fascinating, but I’m as clueless as they come when it comes to numbers.’

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gidecnprewctt:

Gideon could imagine the headlines if the faintly dreamy smile that crossed his face was any indication, a smile which tightened perceptibly at the mention of Elphias Doge. He would not be sorry the day that Elphias’s memory finally fell into obscurity, buried in the nameless grave that traitors truly deserved. “If anything,” he forged ahead determinedly, “Being eaten by dragons might improve his approval ratings significantly. Keep it in mind for next time you’re in need of a morale boost.”

This, he supposed, was why he’d never been destined for a Ministry career.

Stifling another yawn behind his wrist he lent back against the wall, the cheerful humming of the elevator and soothing voice of the elevator announcing each floor a lulling reminder of the many days of his internship that had been whiled away riding the elevator for hours at a time. “I’m not sure what you’re trying to imply,” he replied delicately, lips twitching at the corners, “I was an excellent intern and any department would be lucky to have me. But as it so happens—”

His voice lowered dramatically, head turning towards the elevator door as it trundled ever onwards, “Legend,” a pointed look seemed to reiterate the words use, “Has it that buried deep inside the break room cupboard on level seven lies all of the ill-gotten gains and bribes accepted by Hamish MacFarlan from the British and Irish Quidditch League.”

Allowing the moment to hang in the air for a moment he finally added, “Rumor has it that Ludo Bagman sends him Brazilian Roast by the pound every month to avoid being done for blagging.”

Eyebrows raising slowly, theatrically as the elevator shuddered to a halt, doors creeping open with a cheerful ‘ding’ and soothing, “Level Seven, Department of Magical Games and Sports”, Gideon sidled backward out of the elevator, still speaking in a comically hushed tone. “I figure that after what they keep trying to convince us is coffee up at the reserve I’m due a cup of good coffee and I believe the MacFusty’s incomparable home-brew Whiskey would pair brilliantly with a nice Brazilian Roast. So are you in or are you out, Bagnold? Because Team Bourgeoisie has limited placements available.”

Just the mention of good coffee had her practically salivating, even before the promise of good whiskey alongside that coffee, and the idea of both left her migraine all but forgotten, pushed away to make room for her to wonder how she’d managed such a stroke of good luck in the midst of such a shitty day.

She wasn’t surprised that Gideon, of all people, would know exactly where in the world one could find not just booze but good booze hidden away somewhere in the Ministry. She had essentially no familiarity with the inner workings of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, having less than a passing interest in Quidditch herself and having spend her entire career at the Ministry until recently down in the Wizengamot chambers. 

But she’d known Gideon and his brother for a long time, now -- almost since she’d started at the Ministry herself, when she was younger than he was now and he was still a third or fourth year. His flair for the dramatic was familiar, to her, and comfortable, almost as familiar as his ability to get into things he wasn’t meant to. 

But right now, she thought, as she followed him out the lift. she was so bloody grateful for it. 

    ‘If this is true,’ she said, voice matching his comically hushed tone. ‘Then you, Mr. Prewett, are a bloody godsend. Please, by all means, count me in.’

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septimaxx:

“Oh you would not believe the things these parents expect of me sometimes…” Septima sighed with a slight chuckle-  “Just a short while ago I received a Howler from a mother who was furious I kicked out her child again for bullying some poor muggleborn. Dumbledore and I had a good laugh about that one, even if he didn’t let me respond with a rather snarky Howler screeching: ‘you’re child had it coming’.”

She appreciated Dumbledore as a headmaster more than most realized- he was one of the few people who never doubted her abilities as an educator (or as a person). It was rare one’s employer was so trusting and understanding, something Septima valued very highly.

“I have no doubt you would be doing exactly that,” Septima grinned, “Though you know I would be right by your side,” she grinned widely, “I’m afraid I would have to draw the line at standing on tables, even though my father probably wouldn’t even notice if he walked straight past us.”

     ‘Oh, but the standing on tables is half the fun,’ she insisted. ‘That’s why anarchy and property destruction go hand in hand. Some innate human desire for doing things you’re not meant to, or something like that. If I could stand on the tables during my meetings at work, I think I’d lead a much more relaxed and productive life.’

She couldn’t help but laugh, a little, at the image of Septima -- collected, rational, straight-laced Septima -- standing on a table screaming anything. But as different as they’d been when they’d been friends in school, it seemed like these days they were so much more similar than she’d ever noticed before. 

     ‘Well. There’s nothing in my life besides work, right now, but surely you’re less boring than I am. What else have you been up to?’

[bagnclds-blog]

date: 17 October time: 7:45pm location: The White Wyvern      ( @greybacked )

She'd never been to The White Wyvern.

Ordinarily, she would have been more than happy to keep it that way. She got home at night so exhausted most of the time that she just wanted to crash into bed, so pubs were more often than not not her scene, anyway, but a place like this was a whole other story. Knockturn Alley didn’t give her the creeps these days the way it used to, when she was in school or during the thick of the war, but she’d come to accept that this was going to be the kind of place she’d have to get used to.

It wasn’t the pub that scared her now.

No, what scared her -- just enough to make her chest feel a little tight as she made her way into the dimly lit pub -- was the man she was here to see. 

He was easy enough to spot, standing behind the bar, a relatively large man, not much changed from the last time she’d seen him. She’d never liked him -- no, that wasn’t right. She’d never understood him, had always been bothered by his fondness for chaos and violence, the feral gleam in his eye.

But needs must, in times like this.

     ‘Greyback,’ she said, her voice dry, as she approached the bar. ‘Fancy seeing you here.’

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yxxley:

Her words drew a breath of laughter from their lips. That didn’t seem quite true, with the way she seemed to have so many suggestions for them to consider, all about how to handle their own personal situation. Still, it felt almost like a challenge, in a way, to do the unexpected and take her advice.

She was certainly ruthless, they had to give her that, willing to put someone so green in such danger all so that she could keep her around a little longer. They still didn’t see much use in keeping an insolent mudblood around, considering the trouble she was already causing, but between Millicent’s cold-hearted suggestions, and James’ heart-felt pleas, they were tempted. If they were going to keep her around, though, they were going to scare her first, which didn’t seem a particularly easy task, given her foolhardy boldness. One way or another, they had no plans to make the decision now. It was all still so new, there was plenty of time to play with the food first.

They were already crafting an owl to Rodolphus in their mind, even as Millicent made to leave. They pursed their lips, but nodded.

“Tell the girl I send my regards.”

end.

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yxxley:

For the first time in their conversation, the shock on their face was clear to see. For Millicent to so easily offer up the girl’s fate to them, to suggest that they use their power over her, it was a surprise. Perhaps it shouldn’t have been. There was a reason she had made it so far in the Ministry; she wasn’t Rodolphus’ opponent for nothing, there was a reason she was where she was. Somehow they hadn’t expected that sort of cold, unfeeling offer from her, though, especially not when it came to her protege.

“You’re quite the politician, aren’t you?” they said, a little laugh in their voice, as cold as ever.

It would potentially save her from being fired, yes, but Millicent had to realize that suggesting the exert their power over her, use the leverage they already have, perhaps in an attempt to control her, that was worse in their eyes. But there was a temptation there, although, at the moment they didn’t see how a too-bold mudblood working in one of the most useless departments in the Ministry could be of use to them.

“Attempting to control her seems like an unnecessary strain, when getting rid of her takes care of the current issue, and prevents any other potential issues she could cause here. I don’t need another young fool I have to keep my eye on,” Yaxley said slowly. “I’m well aware why you want her around, but I don’t see how she could be anything other than an annoyance for me, even if she was under my thumb.”

     ‘I’m not here to do your job for you, Yaxley,’ she replied, folding her arms over her chest once more, an unspoken gesture that the conversation was, in essence, older. She would leave them with that to think about, and whatever they decided to do, it was their decision. She would just have to hope that they came up with something worthwhile enough to save Lily’s career. ‘But I’m certain you can come up with something. Smart wix like you, and a girl that desperate to save her career. You never know what might come up.’

Yaxley wasn’t Lestrange, she had told herself, in the moment before offering up Lily’s fate. They weren’t the same brand of unfeeling and bloodthirsty. And they had an absurd fiancée keeping them busy. And Lily was strong, Lily could hold her own against anyone. All she had done was make an attempt to get the ball back onto the playing field: it was up to the both of them to see who would take control of it.

The unease in the pit of her stomach she felt, the bitter taste of the words that had done it? That was a necessary evil, and she pushed it away without a further thought.

     ‘I’ll see myself out, then? Let you get back to your very important work, maybe have a nice long think about things.’

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septimaxx:

“I could imagine it being rather difficult on you, though you’re handling it like a champ,” Septima sympathized, encouragingly, “I have n clue as to how you do it.” The extreme scrutiny she knew Millicent was under could not have been easy to handle. When her words turn to Doge Septima freezes slightly, the mention of the case catching her off guard. 

The paper, she had found, had become increasingly harder and harder to read each day, the headlines more worrying, if not more horrifying than the previous. It was a reminder that peace, while seemingly pure, was never truly untainted. There was always more, always more chaos- is was only a matter of when and where. It wasn’t something that arithmancy had taught her, but it was certainly something that years and years of arithmancy research would support. 

“The whole Doge has been making waves around Hogwarts as well. Parents and to some extent, students, have been sent into quite a tizzy. I do my best to promise to prepare them for the world that they’re about to face, but as you can imagine, the helicopter parents don’t take it particularly well.”

    ‘They can’t expect you to teach students how to handle with something like that,’ she said, disbelief tinging her voice. ‘Surely that’s, like... the definition of a parent’s job, if it’s even something anyone can be expected to prepare a child for. You teach Arithmancy, not life skills and coping mechanisms. And Dumbledore...’

She hadn’t thought about it, until just then, how Dumbledore would even be taking the news that Doge had betrayed him. Inscrutable as anything, the old bastard, she would have bet, if anyone had asked her to bet. 

     ‘Surely that’s Dumbledore’s responsibility. Merlin, I can’t imagine what I would’ve been like if something like this had happened when we were at Hogwarts. I would’ve been rioting, covering the Great Hall in bloody... flyers of some kind, standing on tables shouting about who knows what. Made a complete fool of myself, I’m sure.’

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vivaciousncharming:

Lily nodded as they started walking towards the place. She understood Millicent’s idea to go there. There were many reasons why purebloods wouldn’t follow them. First, because they would most likely have a heart attack surrounded by that many muggles, but also because any of them would stick out like a sore thumb. Their fancy robes would look absolutely ridiculous to anyone there. At least that meant the woman still cared about their safety, which had to be a good sign, right? 

Since childhood, Lily had had this irrational fear to disappoint authority. She never lied to her parents, she often played by the rules, and even when she didn’t, she made absolutely sure she could never get caught. As she grew up, that fear had faded slightly. Nonetheless, now that Millicent was next to her, not even looking at her, she felt it vividly - as if she was a little girl once more, waiting for a scolding. 

“Can’t you be both?”, she asked with a sigh. It was a stupid question, one she already knew the answer for - but she needed to ask, because she didn’t see how that was impossible. She refused to believe principles and politics were mutually exclusive. 

     ‘In a perfect world, sure. When I was your age, I thought I could be. But at the end of the day, you’ll always have to compromise one for the other. It’s...’

She took a deep breath, for just a moment, her hands slipping into her pockets. She wasn’t angry at Lily, that was the worst part. Once, she would have done exactly the same thing Lily had done if faced with someone who had questioned her worth just because of who she was. And she missed it. The freedom, the... strength of conviction. The fire. Missed the little girl she used to be, the girl who thought she’d make change by standing in front of tanks and setting the world on fire. 

     ‘It’s part of why I wanted you to be a part of my campaign in the first place. Sometimes, to get anywhere politically, you do things that make you lose sight of what you set out to do in the first place. Of whatever moral compass was guiding your decision to do anything at all. I used to imagine my convictions were strong enough to make me immune to it, but now I think the stronger they are, the harder you want something...’

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gidecnprewctt:

“It’s that bad, huh?” 

A low whistle of acknowledgment followed as Gideon stepped back to turn neatly on his heel, tipping his head in invitation back the way he’d come in search of the elevator and the ever elusive something stronger. "For the record, I know where you can find a very hungry pack of Welsh Greens that would very much appreciate some additional protein in their diet.”

The pointed raise of his eyebrows accompanied a deliberate jab at the elevator call button with his elbow, nose wrinkling as if he was giving the idea entirely too much thought as he readjusted his armload of paperwork, before he added a cheerful, “Just a thought.”

With a cheerful ‘ding’ the elevator doors slid open and Gideon loped inside, elbowing the button for level seven before slouching back against the elevator wall, twisting his bandaged wrist back and forth as if the idea of leaving it be was entirely foreign to him. The artful reshuffling of an overload of files in order to pick at his bandages followed as Gideon glanced up to eye Millicent thoughtfully.

 “Are you familiar with the legend of the Level Seven Break Room?”

Gideon Prewett, she sometimes thought, was a bad influence, a perfect distraction. She should have been getting back to work -- in the end, sifting through the never-ending list of things she needed to get done would be the only way to make her life easier -- and yet just the suggestion of putting it all off, coming from him, sounded like the greatest idea in the entire world. She fell into step beside him after only a second of hesitation, lured in not only by the promise of a drink but also by the mention of hungry dragons. 

     ‘If only my problems were that easy to solve. Can you imagine the headlines? Minister for Magic Inexplicably Devoured by Dragons? That’d cause a bigger stir than Elphias Doge being a traitor, that’s for certain.’

She leaned against the side of the elevator, facing him, crossing her arms over her chest, a smile playing across her lips, one eyebrow arching in good humor.

     ‘Legend, is it? Maybe if I’d spent my whole Ministry career trying to look busy without doing any work, I would, but... well, now you have me intrigued.’

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olderstrange:

“Of course I think that. And if you don’t, you should. You’re losing the election so if I were you I would make me your top priority. Remember it’s the people who choose their leaders, not the Minister - and right now the people have no idea who you are.” He shrugged. “I don’t mind waiting.”

One of the most annoying things about people like Millicent, and Moody as well, was that they believed themselves to be so entitled because they had gone through more hardships in life than he had. They obviously felt they were more deserving, because of their inability to eat fancy food or dress properly. It was ridiculous. His privilege and his purity of blood hadn’t been his doing, but he had learned how to take advantage of them. He had worked as hard as her or even more to be where he was. Yes, some of that work hadn’t been the cleanest, but it was what he needed to do. 

“You think so? Because it doesn’t seem to be showing in your results.” Rodolphus chuckled, sound dripping sarcasm. “Besides, you speak as if I hadn’t worked hard for the things I’ve gotten. May I remind you I’m the youngest member of the Wizengamot, and I did all that by myself. I know not everyone can look as good as I do while achieving things like that but what can I do? Blame my parents I suppose.”

Sometimes she wanted  to be infuriated by Rodolphus Lestrange, wanted to be hurt by his personal attacks against her, but she just couldn’t manage when everything he said not only felt completely out of touch with reality, but also like it was out of the mouth of some Victorian antagonist.

There were so many things she could say to fight against everything he’d just said that if she hadn’t stopped herself, her head would have spun with it. The people have no idea who you are, right, just because a couple of worked up purebloods who refused to see the world outside their ivory tower didn’t know who she was certainly meant that no one else did. As if she didn’t have allies of her own, and as if anyone who had stood against You-Know Who would even consider voting for a man who had been imprisoned for allying himself with a blood supremacist and mass murderer. 

    ‘Right,’ she said, and left it at that, because nearly nothing he said was worth acknowledging by stooping so low as to argue with him. ‘Well, have fun waiting around wasting time until the Minister gets back. I actually have work to do, so I’m going to go.’

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yxxley:

They let out a little scoff.

She might have been Rodolphus’ opponent, but their methods were shockingly similar in this regard. They both seemed to think that they could get something out of them by playing the shocked and disappointed card, as if they hadn’t experienced that very brand of manipulation over and over again from their mother. They weren’t interested in her condescension, just as they were becoming increasingly tired of Rodolphus’ as well, especially when it came to the topic of their engagement.

The last thing they felt like listening to at the moment was her attempts to talk them down, appeal to their ego in the hopes that that they were going to back down. It was certainly making them wonder, though, if they had somehow missed something in this whole situation, if their mind was too full and too worried that they had made a misstep, and had somehow gone without noticing it. It was like a compulsion, to keep feeding into everything she suggested, but they couldn’t help themself, the paranoia creeping up again.

“Where do you think my power is best leveraged, then, Millicent? I’m always open to suggestions,” they said, voice dripping in sarcasm.

She didn’t like the thought of what she was about to do. She knew she might be putting Lily in even more danger than she was already in, making her situation worse rather than better even if she managed to save her job. But all was fair in politics and war: Lily had gotten herself into a mess she had no way out of, and Millicent needed the witch around for her campaign, here in the Ministry, and not disgracefully fired. 

     ‘I’d just think it might be useful, having someone like her under your thumb. Once she’s out of the Ministry, you lose all power over her. But if she knows you’ve got the potential to ruin her career at any point in time?’

It had gotten so easy to become cold. To shut off the fire in her heart that had made her think, once, she was an idealist. But it was that fire in Lily’s chest that had gotten Lily into this problem, and it wasn’t going to get her out of it.

     ‘Well. A little embarrassment turns into an awful lot of leverage.’

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yxxley:

They nearly laughed in her face. It was unclear to them whether or not she had actually heard anyone say something like that, but they didn’t think that much mattered at the moment.

Her method was becoming increasingly clearer by the moment. It was only unfortunate that her choice of insult was something they had heard before; hell, they were well aware that people found it infinitely amusing that this whole situation was happening. Lestrange’s lapdog. As if that was something that anyone would dare say about them now, as if it wasn’t something that numerous people had said before and mysteriously turned up gone after uttering. And her use of mudblood, a word obviously uttered to play to their sensibilities, as if to suggest someone who agreed with their own thoughts on blood status had been the one to suggest all of this. They highly doubted anyone who held their beliefs would be anything but glad to see a mudblood like her getting even a piece of what she deserved.

But they didn’t care if it was true or not.

“Whoever said that quite obviously doesn’t understand the power of a demonstration. Of course, it’s beneath me,” Yaxley said frankly. Perhaps she wasn’t expecting self-awareness, but the moment the unfortunate girl had slapped them, they had made their decision to use it. “But I am confident enough in my own reputation as it stands to weather a bit of gossip in order to remind anyone else who might feel so reckless that they should think before they act impulsively, and their actions will always have consequences.”

     ‘Naturally. But that’s where I’m surprised by you.’

She was getting tired of standing here; the Department of Mysteries was several degrees colder than the rest of the Ministry, and it was only October -- she hadn’t exactly dressed for the cold, when she’d come in today and she was starting to long for the warm comfort of her own office. She had been hoping this was going to be worth her time, but if Yaxley was as stubborn as they seemed to want her to think, it was only going to get more tedious to try to get anything out of them.

And the hypocrisy behind Lestrange’s best friend lecturing her about how actions have consequences was almost painful. As if anything they had ever done had consequences when the world was practically licking their boots. 

     ‘Let me level with you, Yaxley. I don’t expect you to withdraw your complaint. But I did think you had a bit more forethought than all of this. A bit better an idea of where your power is best leveraged.’

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septimaxx:

For as much as Septima adored arithmancy, she often found herself lonely in the field, for it was typically filled with witches and wizards twice her age, who almost entirely out of touch with her generation, if not reality itself. Thus, Septima had always had to look beyond her field for friendships, elated that her friendship with Millicent had managed to last not only the test of time but space itself.

As they walked side by side in the direction of cafe, Septima smiled as she watched her friend’s spirits visible lift at the mention of food.

“Lovely,” she grinned, as she paused at the women’s query, “I suppose my life is as complicated and hectic as it always is, but I’m afraid I haven’t been up to much- between taking on an extra set of classes and researching for my textbook, I haven’t had a stitch of time to call my own.  But how have you been, my dear? I imagine life’s much more interesting on your end with the campaign and all.”

     ‘I wish I could say it was,’ she answered. She hadn’t exactly imagined that campaigning for Minister would be thrilling, but she had at least hoped it would be a respite from the inane routine of her actual job. Instead, it was just more of the same: all politicking was the same, it seemed, no matter at what level you worked. 

Septima’s work always sounded so interesting. Millicent had loved Arithmancy when she’d taken it at Hogwarts, and while she had never even considered pursuing it or teaching as a career, sometimes she found herself wondering if she might have been happy had she and Septima switched places. Though teenage students, maybe, were the one thing less tolerable than entitled male politicians. 

     ‘Unfortunately, the campaign is just the same shite day in and day out. Lestrange trying to discredit me for nonsense reasons, Minchum making terrible decisions I have to fix, the Prophet reporting on my every interaction and word. Everything that’s happened with Doge has been... a welcome break from the monotony, honestly.’

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yxxley:

There was no way she couldn’t agree with them on the matter, and yet they knew that this wasn’t over at all. She wasn’t going to give up so easily when it was her apparent protege’s job on the line. Still, Yaxley had no plans of giving in, no matter what she said. After all, the suspension was already in effect. The real question was whether or not they were going to bring Rodolphus into the mix, and they were realizing that that would certainly depend on how this conversation went.

They were perfectly aware that she was baiting them, trying to put them into a position where they had to back down for their own reputation. But they were also already aware how laughable it was to many people that they had been slapped by a mudblood in public. Luckily enough for them, no one wanted to die enough to laugh about it while they were present. Still, as she went on, very strategically casually bringing up something someone might or might not have said, they couldn’t help but perk up a little. They knew what was happening, which just made them more annoyed over how well it worked, because if there was one thing they hated, it was not being in control. And people saying anything about them without their knowledge that wasn’t positive or at least fearful was something they wanted to know about.

“Fine, I’ll take the bait. What were they saying?” they asked, giving in against their better judgement, their ego getting the better of them.

She was fairly certain this wouldn’t work, but that was alright. Yaxley was a smart wix, and she always had a back-up plan for when things didn’t go her way. But she wasn’t eager to owe a favor to someone like them; if this got the job done, she’d come out ahead, and this wouldn’t have been a waste of time or resources getting Lily out of trouble.

It was a long-shot, but Yaxley wore their ego like facepaint; if it would work on anyone, it might be them.

     ‘Just that they were surprised you were bothering with all of this, said it seemed beneath you. What was the phrase, oh, something like, I didn’t realize Lestrange’s lapdog cared so much about a mudblood.’

In all honesty, this wasn’t entirely about Lily. It had been, when she’d first stepped onto the lift, but she’d realized that there was a bigger play here, a more important goal than saving Lily’s job from a stupid mistake she should’ve known better than to make. 

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olderstrange:

Rodolphus shrugged nonchalantly, not a single crack on his mask. Being married to someone like Bellatrix who was constantly trying to rile him up meant that people like Millicent were like child play. He had to thank his wife for that. She was one of the reasons he had been able to develop such a thick skin, to learn how to maintain control even in the direst situations. 

“Are you absolutely sure? You know how people are. One minute they love you, then they start noticing the cracks. They start believing maybe the position is a little more than you can handle, and puff, you’re out.” 

There was a sickening satisfaction in his voice, one he hope she’d notice. It wasn’t like he had anything personal against her, not at all. The poor thing was even decent at her job. If she wasn’t so eager to get in his way, he would surely spare her. 

“I don’t speak with junior undersecretaries, Miss Bagnold. And I’d rather hear that from the Minister himself. You can hardly blame me. I’m afraid I don’t believe you’re past foul play.”

     ‘Oh, Rodolphus, you wound me. You honestly think I care about you enough to bother lying? He’s out at the moment -- you can check his office, yourself, if you’d like, but I thought you’d have more important things to do with your time.’

It was only partially a lie. The Minister had stepped out of his office, however briefly. Something about the Muggle Liaison office wanting to contact the muggle Prime Minister about Doge’s murder, about Alastor Moody saying it was a good idea -- which she doubted was true, but which had been a convenient distraction nonetheless. 

The problem with Rodolphus Lestrange -- well, aside from the blood supremacy, the murder and torture, the overly-inflated ego, and the fact that he was likely coercing all of his secretaries into helping him cheat on his miserable wife -- was that he couldn’t see the forest for the trees. Every time he came up with some brilliant idea to outsmart or discredit her, he convinced himself he had the election in the bag, as if he’d won the war when he’d only made the first move in the battle. She would have hated it more if it wasn’t positively useful. 

     ‘I wouldn’t be past foul play if I needed it. But luckily for me, plain old competency and hard work seems to get the job done, most of the time.’

[bagnclds-blog]

vivaciousncharming:

She had spoken to Yaxley? And nothing had happened. Was that bad news? What did that mean? Was she actually going to get fired? Lily had contemplated that chance, of course, but she hadn’t really thought about it. What was she supposed to do without her job at the Ministry? Her objective, completely destroyed. Was Yaxley really going to ruin her because of a slap? Of course they were, who was she trying to fool? It wasn’t about the slap, it was about the fact that she had probably ridiculed them in front of everyone. 

Before panic could take the best of her, she nodded quickly. “Yes, yes, absolutely.” It was only when she adjusted her bag to follow Millicent’s lead that she realised her legs were actually shaking, and she tried to compose herself. 

The elevator ride was silent, mainly because she didn’t know what to say. She could have asked about the campaign, about Millicent’s health, about the Doge’s case; but both of them knew her mind was somewhere else right now, and until they talked about that, any other information was going to go right over her head. 

Being out of the building felt pretty much like exiting a tomb, and Lily released a breath she didn’t know she had been holding. “So, where to?” 

     ‘There’s a muggle cafe, two blocks over,’ she said, pointing in the direction of the place; she tended to use muggle establishments when she wanted to make sure what she said wouldn’t end up in the Prophet the next day, or on the desk of someone with the power to stonewall whatever she was trying to do, kept a few quid on her just in case the need arose. It was a safer place to talk about this than anywhere Yaxley or their allies might hear.

It wasn’t going to be a pleasant conversation, she knew that; in fact, she’d been dreading it since she heard what had happened, dreading it even more since she spoke with Yaxley the day before. She wasn’t surprised, and disappointed felt too parental, but she wasn’t sure how else to describe it. Concerned was vague and non-specific. Frustrated was a little better. She didn’t like it.

     ‘You know, Lily,’ she said, once they were a block away, not breaking stride or making eye contact as she spoke. ‘There are two types of people in this world: those who are principled, and those who are political.’

[bagnclds-blog]

asteroidealight:

“No– I mean, yes! I mean… I don’t know.” Great start, Marlene. That’s going to help a lot. She crosses her arms and takes a deep breath, stepping closer and smiling. “I was just… I was waiting for someone else to come out but actually, you might be able to help too.” She should be, everyone in the Ministry always seemed to have more information than they let on. Somehow, some way. And as someone who’s running against Lestrange for a position as big as Minister, the classified kind of information should be getting to her. 

“This case, with Elphias and his family, you’ve got to know something, right?” Probably not the best way to ask, but that’s how she handles things sometimes. Barely thinking before speaking, abruptly. “There’s gotta be something we the people can do to help, or to protect ourselves and our loved ones at least. Even if we don’t work here! Or, I don’t know, maybe there’s a way we can help solve the case? Or help someone else solve the case, I— it’s just so frustrating to sit here and do nothing, you know?”

     ‘I really wish I could help you,’ she said, after a long moment of processing the witch in front of her’s rather long request. Truth be told, she wasn’t as involved with the Doge investigation as she would have liked to be. Ordinarily, she would have been as hands-on as she could manage from a different department, but she’d been so worried about what Minchum might say to the press, or do without consulting her, that she’d been practically babysitting him since the night of the murder. 

     ‘Believe me, I wish there was something I could do, too, but if you’re that desperate for information, you’re better off asking the Aurors. As swamped as I’m certain they are right now, they’re keeping things fairly quiet, even from people like me. But somehow, I think you and your family should be safe, as long as you weren’t traitors.’ If Marlene McKinnon had been any kind of traitor to the Order, that really would have been the end of the bloody world.