10am, Thursday 7 September 2009
Courtroom 1

"And so I thank you, witches and wizards of the Wizengamot, for hearing me this morning.  With utmost respect to Minister Annwyl, I fervently hope you will agree that the time has come for the people of Wizarding Britain to be heard again on this office.  I humbly now petition for your nomination."

Persepolis Zephyr stood on the floor and addressed the plum-robed Elders in her own solemn tones of charcoal and silver-grey.  She wore a traditional pointed witch's hat, and her face was calm but determined as she concluded her formal request.  She'd been preparing for this moment for months.  She'd solicited donations, met with officials at all level of the Ministry of Magic, and engaged with the public.  Even her most recent work for the Hogwarts Board of School Governors was conducted in a way to highlight her capabilities as a Minister of Magic.  And now, standing before the Wizengamot, she knew what would happen.

One might suspect these proceedings to be a mere formality, that the nominations have been promised before this date, that these moments are just a show for public record.  But that would be a mistake.  Wizengamot Elders were not always so easy to peg down and Zephyr knew that more voices than hers had their ears. 

But she only needed seven to begin.  Only seven mouths to speak her name in nomination. 

"Thank you, Governor Zephyr,"  the Chairwizard said, and then, "The Wizengamot will now hear nominations for Minister of Magic."

The first to rise was Gabrielle Murray-Harker.  "I nominate Persepolis Zephyr."

Zephyr smiled at her old friend and inclined her head in thanks.  It was Knox Greyfriar, another person she knew well who stood for her next.

"Zephyr," he stated plainly, boldly.  It was all that was needed was her name.

Then, immediately following Greyfriar, two other Elders stood at once.  There was some amused tittering as one deferred to the other.  But in no time. two more Elders had named her.  Good.  Up to four.  Half way there.

"Annwyl!"  a loud voice called next, the Elder standing defiantly.  Zephyr frowned.  That was his privilege.  She already knew how difficult it would be to convince the people of Wizarding Britain to remove Annwyl from the seat when he'd served so loyally.  But that was part of this.

In response, the others that Zephyr had counted on took their stand for her.  "Zephyr!"

"I nominate Zephyr."

"Zephyr."


Seven times Zephyr's name was spoken in the Wizengamot, and so the campaign could now begin.  The waters of acclamation would be prepared and the measurement would begin.   And then, at a time deemed fit by the Wizengamot, they would deliberate and name the next Minister.  Or support the incumbent.

Time and the rising waters would tell!