Footsteps echoed eerily in the dark hallways leading from the Department of Mysteries. Flapping memos, signaling interdepartmental mail, made the deserted halls feel even more cavernous, like bats roosting in domed caves. Very few beings ever found the need to walk these halls, and out of those few, only a handful were actually permitted into the inner sanctum at the end. The Department of Mysteries was easily one of the most sought after departments, even if their staff tended to be a little on the… odd… side. One doesn’t get a title like theirs without cause, and the mysteriousness of it all made people very curious. That’s why, other than Azkaban prison and Gringotts bank, Level 9 was the most difficult place in the entire wizarding world to get into. The security clearance was higher even than the Minister of Magic’s personal office. 

One witch reveled in the thought of being part of a select and elite group whose sole purpose was to experiment with the very foundations of magic and the way witches and wizards use it. Jacqueline loved the knowledge that there was knowledge that only she and a parcel of others knew about in the entire world, things not found even in the oldest of spell books. That’s why she was the first witch in every morning and the last one out, with a cynical grin on her face the entire time. Though even she understood that some things needed to change, she may be old, but she wasn’t dead and she would still like to go on the town occasionally.

The clack of her heels echoed through the halls leading from her department to the creaky lifts. That was one thing she really disliked about the Ministry, she didn’t like having to travel so far for anything. That’s why she used floo powder to get herself to and from her office every day. She held her files tight against her bosom to prevent any prying eyes in the lifts from seeing what she was up to, and stood as far in the corner as she could, away from the populace of paper pushers that seemed to fill the Ministry. Very few of the employees had a brain of their own, and out of those that did, most of them were stupid.

When the annoying witch finally announced ‘Level 1’, she slipped off as soon as the doors clanked open. She walked swiftly through the halls, her silky robes billowing smoothly around her as she went. She pushed past the complaining aides and strode right into the newly elected Minister’s inner sanctum, now was certainly not the time for simple pleasantries.

"Do you have an appoin-...!"  The protest of one of Zephyr's clerks fizzled.  And all in a hustled she got up to follow the Unspeakable inside.  If not to stop her, than to show the Minister that she had at least tried.

Zephyr looked up from her desk when the door opened.  Immediately, she glanced down at the day's agenda worried that she'd neglected some appointment.  That couldn't have been it - her staff kept her on schedule.  Her clerk rushed in after with shock-white-haired witch who'd floated in, muttering apologies and protestations.

Minister Zephyr took her feet and held up a hand.  "It's fine, Hollings.  I'll take it from here."  The clerk didn't seem entirely comforted but took her leave and closed the office doors behind her.

"It's Lumpkin, isn't it?"  Persepolis asked.  She recalled the witch, first form her post as History Professor at Hogwarts, and now she was an Unspeakable, clearly.  "We do make appointments, unless there is an emergency.  Is this an emergency?"

Jacqueline knew that it wasn’t a smart idea to upset the most important and influential witch in the entire UK, but sometimes things couldn’t be helped. She gave a curt nod to the Minister in acknowledgment of her name, and gently, yet firmly, sat the file upon the magnificent desk in front of her. Then, from the deep recesses of her robes, Jacqueline pulled a small velvet bag and placed it directly on the top of the file. The witch then took it upon herself to take a seat.

“Yes, Madame, you could say that this is an emergency, or rather, several emergencies.” She began, her French accent becoming much more pronounced in her irritation. “In the file you will find information about our department: our budget for the past six months, staffing, experimental results and the like. It’s a dreary read, I can assure you, yet it’s extremely important. I understand that the Ministry has been exceptionally busy lately with things going on in the world, but I feel that my department has been neglected for long enough.”  The witch failed to mention that she had also included her own credentials to the file, the Minister would figure that out on her own.

“Now, what you’ll find in the bag is a bit more interesting, to be sure. Late yesterday evening, a prophesy was given to a young witch in Wiltshire. Our department immediately recorded the message, of course and I took the liberty of hastening the process of documentation and storage because I thought you may be interested in the message.” She said, allowing a small smirk to cross her features. “Now, I’m not sure what you know about the Department of Mysteries, but in the Hall of Prophesies, most of the orbs there have been there for decades. Some are extremely irrelevant, for instance, I heard one just the other day foretelling a witch’s lunch date. Others, however, are both important and cryptic. I believe this is the latter.” 

Jacqueline crossed her legs comfortably and settled in. She knew that this meeting wasn’t going to be pleasant, nor would it be short. “The seer who gave us this prophesy was a first time seer, and the obliviators have deigned her with a visit, as well as the wizard she prophesied to, so you can be assured the only people who know of this prophesy are me, the Hall of Prophesies curator, and now you. Oh, and I’d make sure that your aides aren’t listening in, it’s a rather personal foresight.”

Minister Zephyr sat down when Lumpkin did and listened for a minute, a stern sort of look on her face.  But her expression continued to open as the topic of the meeting began to be more intesting and warrenting her personal attention.  Zephyr had never been a witch so bothered by appointment before, but never before had there been so many demands on her time.  She'd had to learn quickly that being discerning was the only way to accomplish her lofty job. 

And as Lumpkin continued on, Zephyr saw that this witch understood all of this exactly.  And she had won the day by bringing to her something that always peaked Zephyr's ears: divination.  Prophecy.  Zephyr was a traditional sort of witch.  A classic.  A witch who embraced the diversity of magic and its connectedness to life.  It wasn't just a set of rules and natural laws - it was a way of life.  It touched everything.  And she found the modern neglect of divination to be shocking and arrogant.  There was so little they understood about Divination, and therefore so much yet to learn.

A prophecy in a bag was emergency-material indeed.   But first...

"As much as I loathe to, I must restrain us both," she said, in her deep voice.  "Where," she asked, "is your superior?"

The Head of the Department of Mysteries - shouldn't zie be the one to be delivering Department summaries, budgets, and top-secret, Obliviation-worthy prophecies?  The current Head (appointed by Annwyl) had been scarce and they'd only met a couple of times, and had certainly lived up to the reputation of the Department.  Mysterious.  She had yet to tackle that Department's audit...

Jacqueline smiled grimly as her conversation mate asked about the whereabouts of her Department Head. “Ah, well that’s a very good question, Minister. A question I would very much like the answer to myself.” She said, sighing heavily. “I feel that after looking through the file, you’ll understand a bit better, but in a nutshell: our department isn’t faring so well. Our funds are all tied up in old projects, leaving scarce little for new experimentation. Our staff is well below normal capacity, and our Head is never around to fix the problems that we’re facing.”

“I feel that it’s high time someone above my superior takes the time to acknowledge our shortcomings.” Jacqueline leaned forward in her seat. The Minister may be excited about the prophesy, but Jacqueline knew that the item of real import to this meeting was the seriously falling standards of her department. “For lack of a better answer, my supervisor has been scarce around the office. I’ve seen neither hide nor hair of him in at least two weeks, and that’s saying something, as I’m almost always in the offices.”

Well, that was quite the condemnation of Dante Ward.  Persepolis would have to take that with a grain of salt, for after hearing Lumpkin speak for all of two minutes it seemed clear that she would be a hard witch to please no matter who you were.  But that was no reason to disbelieve Lumpking outright.  It was all the more reason to listen and perhaps the perfect time to skip past levels six and seven and focus on Level Eight.  And all of its strange wonders.

"Well then.  Let's see what you have."

In a very pointed way, Minister Zephyr took up the file and moved it aside.  It was still between them, still on the table, but for the moment, not her focus.  Instead she arranged the velvet bag so that it was in between them and setting directly on the wooden surface. 

Then, remembering Lumpkin's advice, she raised her wand and muttered Mufflato and a thick, quiet feeling fell over the chamber and the lights dimmed.  A soft light came from within the velvet bag.  Zephyr put her wand away and opened her palms to Lumpkin.

"Please."

As an eerie silence stifled the air around them, Jacqueline stood, removing her slender wand from the holster connected to her belt. She tapped the bag and watched as the soft fabric slid smoothly from the pulsating orb it held. “Thankfully, we’ve ways of extracting the prophesy without the need to smash the orb to pieces,” Jacqueline said with a grim smile. Just the thought of the state of the Hall of Prophesies was enough to make anyone cringe. Repairs had been made since the battle some years previous, but the scars still lingered, and the sheer volume of destroyed foretellings was enough to make even the toughest goblin shed a tear.
   
The Unspeakable cleared her mind of all thoughts and waved her wand silently over the glowing stone. She mumbled a few inaudible words and a figure slowly began to emerge from the fog that ensued. The apparition showed a young witch, not much older than Hogwarts age, lengthy hair whipping in a nonexistent windstorm. When the figure spoke, the voice was that of an inhumane creature, too guttural and raspy to belong to any human, except maybe from someone with the advanced stages of emphysema.
   
“A witch will take up the mantle of a very powerful cause. Her path will not be easy, but leaning on the ways of the True Sight will ease the burden. Her power is abundant and her hands will shape the wizarding world into a new era. If she stays strong, the might of magic will be strong; however, if she should revel in weakness, the great work of magic will spiral into a darkness not seen since the age of the Dark Lord. It is, therefore, important that she should ally herself with great power and morality. Struggles will plague her from her moment of inauguration, and she must face them with a fierce incorruptibility.”

When finished, the figure started to dissipate like the insubstantial smoke she was made from. During the tirade, Jacqueline had settled back into her chair, trying to make her presence as small as possible. When the escapade was complete, she let out a sigh, as if the effort of watching had drained her of her strength. Instead of making a remark as she was wont to do, she decided to let the silence and the moment speak for itself.

When the prophecy ended and the last traces of the voice dissipated and the figure disappeared, Persepolis realized she was clutching the arms of her chair so tightly that it hurt.  She slowly released them and laid a hand over her heart.  It was beating rapidly.  She was quiet, her face grim.  Her shoulders rose and fell in slow, deep breaths.

It was happening.  It was real.  It was like touching a unicorn for the first time.  Persepolis felt a deep feeling of connectedness with the magical forces that tied the world together, that had resided in every witch and wizard of the centuries, of all the events that had led up to this moment.  She felt indeed very small.  She felt stunned.  And she felt... important.  Powerful.  As she well should, but it hadn't seemed real until now.  Somehow, just not real.  But now she knew she was meant to be here.  The prophecy told her so.

"It speaks," she said finally, "of me, doesn't it."

She looked up at Jacqueline Lumpkin.  "Thank you for this."

“Well, there is usually some doubt with the subject of a prophesy, but the message this time is unmistakably clear. It speaks of you, Minister.” She said, allowing a small bit of compassion to flow into her normally brisk exterior. “No need to thank me, Madame, this is my job, this is what I live for.” She said, swiftly bringing back the façade of unemotional, lest she allow the Minister to know she wasn’t as strict as most assume.

“It is my duty, however, to instill in you the importance of a prophesy. I realize that you are in an esteemed position of great intelligence, therefore, you know more than most that there are thousands of people who go by every day unaware that true seers even exist. Very few people are graced with the privilege of being the subject of a prophesy, and they aren’t to be taken lightly. I implore you; take every word of this prophesy to heart, as it will surely be of great importance, even if its import is to you alone.” Jacqueline wasn’t even sure why she was telling the Minister such trivial thoughts, maybe because she saw all too often what happened when a prophesy was ignored. The Minister, however, obviously didn’t need to hear her ramblings, as she was obviously very keen when it came to matters of clairvoyance.

The Unspeakable waved her wand toward the still pulsating orb and summoned the prophesy to her, as the bag closed around the top. “This’ll be held in the Hall for safekeeping. If ever you’re in need of a reiteration, simply call on one of the Hall of Prophesies Unspeakables and someone will be glad to assist you, or you can simply give us a visit in person.” Jacqueline was back to all business. In her opinion, enough time had passed for Persepolis to have gotten herself together, she was the Minister of Magic, after all, and she simply did not have time to fall to pieces.

Something on Persepolis's face had changed.  She'd waited quiet and patient as Unspeakable Lumpkin recited important considerations for prophecies; Persepolis knew all of it, but she'd not fault the witch for repeating what bears repeating.  Most people didn't take Divination seriously enough - it wasn't as snip-snap and easy-to-figure as charms or potions where you could follow a list of instructions, work backwards, see the thing step-by-step.  Divination and its sister disciplines was foggy and perhaps people mistrusted it because it made them feel like children again.

But not Zephyr.  In hearing the prophecy a calmness had settled over her like armor.  She had a new confidence that she didn't know she'd even been lacking.  A new sense of purpose as, in her eyes, had been assigned by the stars themselves ancient eons ago. 

She watched as Unspeakable Lumpkin bundled up the orb, and with the desk clear, perhaps it was time to move onto other  business.  With clear motions, Zephyr slid the hefty files Lumpking had brought in with her back to the center and flipped open the cover.

The Minister slipped a pair of reading glasses onto the end of her nose and began slowly flipping pages.  It was a report more or less what she'd seen before from the other departments, but with a good deal more warnings and M.U.M.M.s, nearly on every page.  It was, as Lumpkin had warned her, dull and dense.  It was all about money and allocation and schedules and percentages and magic-hours and all that very necessary, but very difficult tally and ticks of every coin that passed through the entire organization.

"I shall do what I can for the Department of Mysteries.  Transportation will throw a fit, but it looks like I certainly have cause to move Mysteries up in the queue.  Perhaps Ward can spare you to assist me?"

She raised her gaze to the white-haired woman on the other side of the desk, and almost smiled.  "I'd consider it a tremendous asset."

Read: opportunity.

This is what Jacqueline had been waiting for, a chance to work her way personally into the Minister’s inner circle. Though on the surface, it would appear as if Jacqueline was simply helping the Minister with some department issues, under the surface she would be plotting and planning her way directly into Ward’s deliciously comfortable chair.

Ambition wasn’t a negative quality, but to combine ambition with a cunning mind and a lack of compassion wasn’t exactly conducive to a positive experience for anyone. Jacqueline didn’t care how many people she had to run over in the process, she would be on top, and she would make something of herself. That’s just who she was, and you can’t blame someone for being themselves, right?

“He won’t even notice I’m gone,” The witch said, barely able to contain the manic grin that was bursting to break free. “And it would be an honor to work with someone as powerful as you,” She finished. It couldn’t hurt to add a little flattery to the pile of things Jacqueline had going for her. “Is there anything you need of me immediately?” She asked, truly eager to advance the prospects of her department, as well as herself.

Persepolis took pause and gave Lumpkin a steady gaze over her reading glasses.  She wasn't doing a very good job of hiding her ambitions, or at least her satisfaction in having the Minister's ear.  But Zephyr was used to that, and she would only get more of it.  Ladder climbers and those seeking to use her office for their own advancement. 

But Zephyr couldn't fault ambition - she was Minister, was she not? She'd levied her influence and gained the support of th people and proved to the Wizengamot they could place their full confidence in her.  It wasn't a feat one simply nor modestly fell into.  And neither was Head of the Department of Mysteries.

It just meant she'd have to keep an eye on Lumpkin.  And so would Dante Ward. 

Zephyr broke her gaze and sat up a little straighter in the chair.  "I have a few minutes before my next meeting.  Why don't you fill me in on your Department's top projects going into the new year.  What should we be prioritizing? What absolutely cannot wait?"

Jacqueline sat back comfortably in the chair, this could take a while. “Well spell experimentation certainly needs a few galleons tossed their way, they’ve been dying to find new volunteers to try their incantations out on, but no one will come for free. Then there’s the Time room… Still not completely fixed, after all these years, plus we could really use some authorization to create another centennial time turner.” Jacqueline ticked off the problems on her hand.

“Also, we really need a couple more hands in the Astro Lab, but there’s no money in the budget for any new hiring.” Jacqueline knew there were other things that needed to be changed. For instance, she would really like some more funding for her own personal experimentation (she was working quite aggressively on a cure for lycanthropy) and more than one Unspeakable was due for a raise, herself included. 

“Then there’s the issue with the still missing Muhra Glass. We’re hoping that by the start of the year, the artifact will be safely tucked away within our Department for examination.” She didn’t want to go into much detail about the glass, mainly because she didn’t know very many details herself.

Persepolis couldn't suppress a look of annoyance at mention of the Muhra Glass.  Magical Law Enforcement insisted the case was closed - the perpetrator caught, the Glass chalked up to as a loss - but this was the third mention she'd gotten from The Department of Mysteries who wanted to get their hands on it.  Persepolis was sure the owner of the Magicarium Apothecarium might protest, however Mysteries did have a way of acquiring what it wanted, didn't it.

As evidenced by the rare one-on-one with an Unspeakable...

And from the sound of things, Mysteries was in the same boat as a lot of Departments.  From Muggle Affairs' humble requisitions for quills and ink, to the always extensive budget from Transportation.  And Creatures - don't start with Creatures.  The papers would never tell you this because it's not nearly as flashy: but most of the Minister of Magic's job is about financial allocations and deciding which Department's budget is more important.

"Prepare a proposal for the centennial time-turner," she said.  "Once I see it, I'll speak with Ward and we'll have a closer look at that.  I don't know that the timing is right for the Astro Lab.  Just might not be in the stars right now,[1] at least not until Winter Solstice when I can really sell it."

"And I'll have to look at the numbers in regards to Spell Experimentation, but if you need more for volunteers then you'll need to make cuts elsewhere," she said. 

She leaned forward to the desk and took up a quill and parchment.  In her swift, gestural script she began a short note on her official stationary.

"And deliver this to Ward for me.  It'll serve as paper trail for this meeting which could smooth the rails if you ever needed more authority to assist."

Persepolis gave her just the barest of winks.  Because it was the barest of promises.  But politics needed to be gentle.  Slick.  Smooth.  Hopefully, Lumpkin would catch on that a) Zephyr approved and b) they'd have to be sly about it.  By the book. 

She folded it once and handed it over. 

"I'm afraid I must hurry away, now.  There's a very hairy individual from the Beast Division who's appointment I've inherited from Annwyl."

1.	groooooaaaaaan

Jacqueline stood with finesse and grace befitting the French woman and reached over for the official parchment the Minister offered. This meeting went much better than she could have hoped for, and it opened the door for more opportunities for advancement, which was always a positive thing. “Merci bien de votre assistance.”[1] She spoke out, momentarily forgetting that she was in the presence of an English woman. “Thank you, Minister,” She said, choosing tactfully to not comment on the hirsute appointment.

“I’ll have this delivered to Ward as soon as possible and I’m sure he’ll be contacting you shortly.” She said with a smile. She strode gracefully from the office, looking back only long enough to wish the Minister a good day. She completely ignored the other members of the first floor as she made her way back to the lifts, heels clacking loudly as she went.

1.	Thank you for your help