The usher was kind enough to lead the way as the time was drawing near to the curtain.  Her security attache was nearly a part of the decor as he discreetly moved forward ahead of them, checked the box, and quietly faded away again.  The curtain was drawn back and Zephyr moved into the space.

"A gin and tonic, please," she asked the valet and peeled off her burnt umbre gloves.  From here in a private box, she could hear the gentle, soothing murmur of voices that filled the grand space.  She stepped around the comfortable, red velvet chairs to the railing and looked out into the vast gold-and-glowing chamber of the Opera House.  She took it in, happy for just one moment to feel the space, to be alone, to breathe deeply in the extravagance of a night of revelry.   

So far, everything was going perfectly.  She'd said the right things to the right people and had been treated with the deference and respect she'd only previously dreamed of.  Everything was right.

Footsteps and quiet chatter in the corridor drew her attention and she turned to greet the next to arrive.

Minerva had never been one for pomp and circumstance, but the past couple weeks had required quite a bit of dress-up and small talk. The small talk didn’t bother the old witch as much as the dressing up. Why Minerva couldn’t simply wear the dress robes she’d had fitted for the Yule Ball was beyond her, but that would be a ‘fashion faux pas’ apparently, and one couldn’t have that – at least not when the donations of the fanciful were important to the coffers of Hogwarts.

She had avoided the bar and the floor as much as possible, and had arrived just in time to catch an usher to bring her to the box for the evening. Box 1 – the perfect box for viewing the opera. Sometimes it still surprised Minerva that she was offered the highest of the high. She was, after all, a simple gal and not used to being in the forefront of society. Even as headmistress she tended to stay within the castle walls – unlike Dumbledore, who had been everything to everyone and then some.

“Thank you,” Minerva said to the usher, and when the man asked for her drink order, “A gillywater, if you please,” and then she tossed him a silver sickle. She knew the importance of tips in a service job like that. She glanced around the box and saw only Minister Zephyr. It was still a bit awkward thinking of her as such. The two had worked together when Zephyr had been on the Board of Governors – and other than a crazed divination obsession, the woman was quite a competent witch.

“Good evening, Minister,” said the headmistress, nodding her head in the lady’s direction.

"Oh!"  Persepolis chirruped as soon as she saw who would be joining her.  One never knew at these sort of things, and she was so dreading being stuck with someone dull or antagonistic, but what luck! Someone she knew well, sometime marvelous.  Well sure, McGonagall had never been a cauldron of bubbling fun.  Stern.  Practical.  But good and always with a wink and a nod.  (Not to mention exceedingly influential.)

The happy Minister opened her arms and floated over to greet the older witch with a kiss.

"Persepolis, please," she corrected.  My goodness, Minerva McGonagall could call her Persy if she liked! "Oh, Minerva I can't tell you how good it is to see you.  How are you? Here, sit with me."

She broke away and sat in a chair in the front of the box, and patted the one next to her.  This was so like Zephyr.  Good cheer, smiles and always kindness.  It did good to hide her silver tongue.

Sam had been guided by an usher to his box for the night- box 1. the best box. quietly muttering his drink order to the man, along with giving a sickle tip, he looked around, seeing Minister Zephyr and Headmistress McGonagall in the box. He kept a smile up, but internally his mind was racing. His ultimate boss and possibly the only teacher that still made him feel like a first-year. He doubted this was an accident by Almsay. " Minister, Headmistress" he said with a respectful nod to each.

Persepolis glanced over her shoulder as another guest entered the box.  It was the tall, dignified Auror that she'd met down in the grand foyer.  Samuel Harcroft.  He was a decorated veteran and it had been nice to put a name to a face at long last.  She'd been initially put off by his manner, but they were box-mates now, weren't they?  No reason to be a snob at the opera.

"Auror Harcroft, welcome to our box.  Have you got a drink coming? The valet outside will take your order," she offered helpfully, not realizing that Sam had, indeed, sent for a refreshment already. 

Persepolis clapped as the curtains closed on the first act, but she took care to wait to stand and stretch her legs.  The production was quite fine, but not worthy of an ovation from the first box.  As the applause died down and a din rose from the opera house as many rose to find some pause during intermission, Persepolis did the same.

The Madam Minister rose from her seat saying, "Well, this has been lovely so far.  Did you see the spellwork on the scenery?  Divine."  And other such appropriate opera chatter.  A raise nod of her head at the valet and she knew a fresh drink would be on its way. 

"That lead witch is a wonder.  The scene under the arches with the tiger? Haunting.  Although it did remind me of something..."  She looked to her companions for validation and for some clue as to what had rung her bell.

Sam started as the bodies fell. Jumping up, he drew his wand. " Minister, Professor, I'd better go see what is going on. " Sam said, hurriedly sending off a message to the Auror Office. He was still off-duty after all. He could help keep the crowd under cobtrol, but hadn't the equipment to investigate what was happening. He headed for the stairs to get to the stage.

The curtains opened and Persepolis turned to see - why hadn't the lights dimmed? She was still chatting and sipping her drink, discussing the director's choice of costuming in the - "Merlin!" 

In a few short minutes the cause of the interruption was made horrifically clear.  Persepolis, no warrior was she, clapped her hand over her mouth, and grasped a chair.  Their Auror companion wasted no time and departed, leaving Persepolis to deal with the macabre sight alone with her other boxmates. 

"What is this!" she demanded with a risen voice.  She puffed up her chest and stepped to the balcony.  "What is the meaning of this!"  If this was some ill-conceived hoax or stunt, Persepolis would personally see to it that the wrong was righted.  But it looked too real.  The timing so abrupt, the reaction too genuine.  "Merlin's beard... this is real...."

'Madam, we should go.'

Her security, who'd been quietly lurking, stepped out and touched her arm.  It was procedure.  If this horrible scene was actually a crime and the villain at large, it might not be safe.  But the Minister of Magic couldn't see herself just scurrying off, not before finding out what happened.

"Aurors," she ordered.  "Make sure they're on their way.  And we must have those curtains closed, those wretched souls..."

A genuine smile lifted Minerva’s features with the familiarity with which the Minister spoke with her. She settled herself in quite contentedly beside her fellow witch and turned slightly to give the woman a vague reference to her wellbeing. As Headmistress McGonagall opened her mouth to speak of the new goings-on at the castle, Senior Auror Harcroft stepped into the box, and Minerva offered him a small nod in response to his greeting. Harcroft, it seems, had done well for himself over the years, with a cushy job on level two. Then again, the very same could be said for Persepolis, the top dog position and not even from a promotion.

Though Zephyr put a bit too much stock on divination – in Minerva’s opinion – she was still a decent witch, and seemed to be handling the Ministry with ease. As the opera started, Minerva settled lightly into her seat, watching the stage with rapt attention. Some of the actors Minerva knew personally, and knew the families of many others. Once her drink arrived, the weary witch sipped on it, and it seemed like the first act was over much too soon. “I agree, Persepolis, this has been delightful,” She, along with the Minister of Magic, stood to stretch her legs and take a second drink from the valet as he brought one forth.

When the curtains opened again, and the Auror traipsed from the room, Minerva’s back was turned. She turned quickly, and upon seeing the hanging bodies promptly dropped her glass upon the plush carpet beneath their feet. Unlike the Minister, Minerva was a warrior, though this was certainly not her battle. Minerva’s expression immediately darkened, and soon enough, her own voice was carrying over the din of the theatre along with the Minister’s.

“Close the curtains! The curtains you idiots!” She called down toward the stage. This needed to be contained as quickly as possible. Whether her voice could be heard or not was a mystery, though she’d never had an issue being heard before. “My heavens, this is terrible. Minister, you should go,” She turned her gaze from the stage and caught eyes with the Minister, who’s security agent already had an arm on her – trying to take her to safety. Though Minerva was no fan of running away, safety should dictate the situation. “You’ve got plenty of staff here who can handle the investigation, get to a safe place,”

Then, without waiting to hear the witch’s response, she turned back to the stage and drew her wand… just in case.

Thank Merlin for old tars like Minerva McGonagal. Zephyr had nearly forgotten in those four spanning seconds that she was there.  The old witch was far from frail and her quiet exploits of bravery with a wand were well-known.  Zephyr was more than satisfied to have her at her side. 

Her security wizard had asked her again and she knew he'd not ask very many more times before he simply did what he was sworn to do and Side-Along her back to the Ministry of Magic.  But she didn't want to leave, not yet.

There! Aurors could be seen moving down the aisles and not the stage, wands drawn.  The shouting was still high and she could hear the rumble of evacuation.  Out in the corridor there was the rushing of feet and someone poked their head in.

"Madams, there have been fatalities.  This is an emergency; we need you to exit the building at once.  Do you have a safe place to go?" 

That was that.  Zephyr had to acknowledge her duty was to lead from the top and not with a wand. She pursed her lips and turned to McGonagall.  "Owl me as soon as you can with anything you find out.  You know where to find me."

And then, with that settled, Zephyr allowed her security to take her out and Disapparate with a crack.