Everything seemed so very muffled on the first floor, what with the thick carpets, and the wish not to alarm dignitaries with noise. Either that of he was starting to lose his hearing. He had developed his skills in the fine art of eavesdropping as a child, and only furthered it as an adult. Curiosity killed the cat, and they could be replaced after nine lives, so Mort was only more determined to find out the facts.

So with his oversized ears, he had heard his colleagues, his fellow Department Heads up and down the building, talk of all manner of things. Suspicions of leaky tongues, worries of dementors, escaped beasts, minds of Muggles wiped far too well, werewolves unregistered, criminals receiving more than necessary force to contain, rigged quidditch leagues, small children lost in the floo… 

The Daily Prophet's report of the financial audit was perfect fuel to this fire. Nobody liked to account for all their Department's assets, it was time-consuming and the interns became quickly bored and began to estimate poorly instead of counting. For Moritmer, counting seemingly transient elements of magic and equipment so old that the purpose had been lost generations past were near impossible, at least in this dimension.

He had heard irritation. Even amongst the more organised Departments. Sports had already had their knuckled rapped over extravagant expenses entertaining foreign teams and for sending out sneaky little scouts to watch said teams ahead of the Quidditch World Cup. Mortimer suspected the latter would certainly continue, Britain were desperate to win.

However, he had expected to have escaped the worst. Only now his accounts were being held up before the Minister, and he had been summoned to explain. She would tell the accountants to let things through, authorising that twenty percent increase in funds to the dementor research, the payrise for his senior staff, the expedition to seek out Analiza  Snark based on a scryer's vision…

"It is good to see you again," he told Maurice Holmes, who had once been part of his Department before he had been ushered to aide the Minister. "You are greatly missed, but appear to be doing splendidly here."

A light hand on his colleague's arm as he passed through into her chambers conveyed the sentiment.

"Good morning Madam Minister." Mortimer greeted brightly, his voice authoritative and bold. He paused to give a shallow bow, a hand out to one side before seeking to continue across the carpet that seemed to swallow feet and footsteps. He took a seat at her bidding and composed his face into a calm, unemotional expression.

"You summoned me to explain the Departmental accounts. I trust all is in order as ever, Madam, and that the additional funding for the dementors, amongst others, will have your full backing."

Naturally, the other Departments would receive a cut in funding, but the Department of Mysteries was never questioned. Drove the likes of Brown and Raynor mad.

"Good afternoon, Mister Gamp." 

Persepolis easily reflected the head of Mysteries' pleasant and open demeanor.  She had to make an effort to feel fully his administrative superior.  Perhaps more than anyone in the Ministry, she felt a kind of awe and admiration for the much older wizard whose thoughtfulness and experience made him well respected.  A bit star-struck was the highest office in the land...  She indeed felt very young and new to be seated across the desk, but her authority was well-recognized and she had no intention of going soft.

Because there was some potentially troubling business at hand. 

Nearly ten days ago, the entire Ministry had been called to begin submitting complete and comprehensive reports of all financial matters to Level One.  She'd been warned about Mysteries' arrogance in terms of budget, and she'd seen it first hand in their recent allocations requests, which were phrased as very polite demands.  Their projects were, controversially perhaps, of highest priority for the survival of their society and resolving cosmically important issues.

Not to mention the abject practicality of assisting in putting a stop to Dementor attacks.

However, despite being a well-run and vital Department, Mysteries was accountable as all were to her office.  She let him his niceties, but decided to dictate the meeting's pacing, and begin with a compliment.

"Mysteries has been among the most forthcoming with these reports and I'm sure I have you to thank for that," she said cheerfully and with genuine gratitude. 

"I am trouble though, Gamp, the transparency reveals some opacity.  I'll need you to shed some light.  Mysteries has my support and I have faith in your abilities, but we must ensure there isn't waste."

She summoned a scroll with a flick of her wand and the document which Gamp would be very familiar with levitated to his hands. 

"Line 97,439.  Why in the world would you provision such an object?"

She began with a compliment, they always began with a compliment if they wanted to break something to you gently. Healers, teachers, parents. He did his very best to keep his expression neutral, wondering if Zephyr was testing the waters, and in which case, he would be easily able to put her right on financial matters.

"… there isn't waste."

The Minister implied his department were wasteful? How could one put a financial tag on preserving the most elemental and fundamental rights of their kind? Grief, what did they teach these Ministers?

"Line 97,439. Why in the world would you provision such an object?"

And she was going to have him account for individual lines of the ledger and the inventory? Most unusual, most erratic.

Laying a hand upon the cover of the accounts, he half closed his eyes, recalling the item from the text. Handy little spell that was, got him through paperwork a lot more quickly. The report fell open at the place as his hand raised from the cover.

"We have little choice, Minister." Gamp explained smoothly as he could, balancing the tone with assurance and respect - trying hard not to let it slip into the realms of 'well really!'

"The item in question is held pending the fulfilment of prophecy, as noted in appendix eleven omega, subsection eighty-two. The prophecy it fulfils, unfortunately, was lost in the extensive damage we sustained in the hall." He did not like to ever speak ill of Potter, or the rest of them, given what came to be with the Dark Lord, but the damage that he and the Death Eaters had caused had destroyed the most valuable work known to man, and remained a great bone of contention.

"But one might agree that a ruby encrusted enchanted amputation saw seems rather excessive, though if I recall the goblin metalwork is something to behold. Quite a number of seemingly disconnected items do fall under the category, and are detailed in the same appendix." He dragged the back of his fingernails down the page on his lap as he described, hoping it would dissuade the Minister from questioning any of the items further, though he doubted this very much.

"I would not wish to question the validity of our seers, Minister." 

Goblincraft. Seers.  Prophecies.  Gamp was sure to be fully aware of the nests of spiders he was disturbing.  A thousand threads heading in a thousand directions,  crossing and sticking, and all vibrating in connection to each other. What she didn't need to hear right now was a reminder of further items the goblins might have claim to.  This amputation saw could no doubt be among Gringott's demans right along with the Goblet of Fire!

"I'm not concerned with the Seers," she said firmly.  "They're an asset and in good service, but their validity is not in question.  As with all prophecy our task is in responsible management of their revelations.  I must insist a fifteen percent cut to everything in this category else a clear justification or relation to active research."

"Purposeful and careful.  We must all be when crisis arises.  Mysteries, most of all."

She wondered if he'd been reminded recently of this.  She'd remembered hearing of Snark's hawkish focus, her keen drive down a narrow track.  Reckless at times, so they said, but efficient and concise.  But Ward had been more liberal (and more ethical) and that trend may have continued towards hording... But there was no way to know for sure, so secretive and protected was their work.

"Take this opportunity to get back into fighting form, Mister Gamp.  We've a duty."

Her demands to cut the category by fifteen percent was most displeasing. Gamp's look darkened ever so slightly as his hairy eyebrows lowered and the line on his forehead deepened.

"Take this opportunity to get back into fighting form, Mister Gamp. We've a duty."

"Minister," Gamp replied both smoothly and rather promptly after her words. It was all so soon as if he were correcting one of his sons, who had never been the best at taking direction and were now adults themselves.

"Mysteries has never been away from fighting form. We fight daily with preserving the most valuable aspects of our magic, very items that are from our creation, that demonstrate the very source of our power as a population. Yet unlike the other Departments in this government, we go unmentioned, never praised outside of our level because of the secrecy." He was bristling very slightly as he maintained eye contact.

"My predecessors may have been more liberal, but as my duty, I run a tight ship Madam. On assuming the role I had already commissioned an audit to allow us to divert funds towards necessary, urgent research - dragons, dementors… even inverted corpses."

He raised his eyes to the ceiling as he stated the last, keeping in mind that he resented any invitation to encourage the few in his Department to experiment with volatile dark magic. It was far too inviting as a longer term investment, and terribly irritating to have to do away with any of them on the quiet when they stepped out of line.

"That said, Minister, I respect your request to make further cuts in these times, but not at the expense of jeopardising results."

He'd respect her 'request', would he?  Persepolis recognized an underhanded aggression when she heard one.  She'd heard them her entire life, but she'd long been done allowing them to pass unnoted.

"I wouldn't mistake it for a request, Gamp," she said without a tone of mentoring pretense.  Her directives were not whims, and she had no lesser expectations than they be followed through without petulance. Every Department Head would fight for each knut, but they expected to show results as collateral.  What about Mysteries?

"And about Dementors.  I've had prolonged contact with Edwin Glass on their portion of the crisis, and this seems a prime opportunity for you to share your progress.  Perhaps if it's worthy, I could allot fifteen percent more praise."

What she was preparing to mention was a notion that was not altogether ready for the sunshine.  It had come up some weeks ago between her and Glass at the very beginning of this mess - the possibly of handling the Dark with Dark.  There was little Glass's people could do with this directly, but for Mysteries it would be above board and expected. 

Pressing Gamp as she was, she hoped he'd be eager to find himself and his Department useful to her, and win back any ground he might have just lost.  At least, that's what she hoped.

The political dance had begun, so it seemed. Zephyr moving forward with her demand, Mortimer sidestepping it to try and reduce the demand's impact.

"No mistake made, Minister, but one must understand the reasoning - may be informative when I lay off staff." There was no mistaking the prickle in his words, but he pressed on,

"We have been working with level three extensively on the research. Memories extracted, witness statements taken, readings, scrying, wand examinations… The Squib Network is invaluable as a source for both Departments, but the collation of the results is what takes time." He rearranged his hands and leaned forward ever so slightly in his chair, "not so easy to find candidates to risk their skins attempting to control them, not with Shacklebolt's peacetime decree, to any length."

The look he fixed the Minister from his sunken eyes was expectant, somehow daring her to consider repealing the law that had been put in place a decade ago to stop the Ministry using dementors ever again.

"Because if dementors cannot be left to roam as free agents like any other beast, the only answers are to eradicate them completely - or for the Ministry to regain control, wouldn't you agree?"

It was always of interest to the Minister when she heard of interdepartmental cooperation and the details thereof.  Despite being rigid, the both of Gamp and Glass knew how to get a job done, even if their methods could be severe. 

Her expression darkened just slightly at his search for affirmation, but she pressed on calmly.  She nearly scoffed.

"I certainly do not agree.  And neither would Level Four, who have managed to manage a variety of dangerous and dark populations without validation or eradication.  If we do not consider more than those two options we are putting ourselves at a disadvantage."

She leaned forward slightly as well.  "Until we know why the Dementors have increased in number, we shouldn't dismiss the notion that their population can be reduced to safer numbers."

Like many other dark beings, Dementors it was believed had been around for centuries and had withstood many attempts of their destruction.  There were even those who said that dark creatures were a part of the world and that to eradicate them would be to participate in an even greater darkness, indeed. 

She paused.

"That said."

She paused again.  Looking for the right words and to set the right tone.

"I understand that the Department of Mysteries has, in the past, employed another sort of volunteer.  Those with skills and inclinations we'd normally find reprehensible.  I wouldn't say yet that we are desperate and so I judge this notion, if enacted prior to desperation, to be something to seriously consider.  In fact, I insist we begin to pursue this experiment immediately.  And quietly."

She probably had little need to actually add that last bit.  Clandestine work was the norm for Mysteries, not the exception as it was in other Departments.  They were the secret keepers of the secret keepers.

It was good to know of the Minister's boundaries, that she did have some interest in retaining dementors as a species in the Isles. She was not entirely against them, could potentially see them used again perhaps, all food for thought. He had been more rash in his wish to wipe them out, but it was more to provoke the reaction.

"I insist we begin to pursue this experiment immediately. And quietly."

Mortimer lowered his chin a fraction as his lined mouth gave a small smile to himself.
"We have begun, Minister. Shortlisting candidates, consulting the prophecies, reviewing phrenology and astrological profiles of each for their suitability and temperament. Exit strategies, should they not achieve, or achieve and decide to turn."

He looked up and to the beautiful metalwork of her office lanterns for a moment in reflection of the process.
"The list is a little shorter these days than it was in the darker years. It is less socially acceptable, thank Merlin, though we have our sources. We will keep you informed when we have identified the best candidates." Mortimer didn't mention late the night before, he had considered himself amongst the second line of candidates, to establish one man to lead, and replace the fellow through tragic accident with himself.

"Not a word or inkling outside this room or from my select team, I promise you Minister." He gave a grave nod, and rearranged his formal robes.

"Outside of financial audits and dementors Minister, may I take care of any other trials that have befallen your office since we last spoke?" Mortimer asked, and softened his features, "My wife, Lyra would very much like to invite you to dinner, though we both appreciate you are incredibly busy."

Persepolis could not hide a flash of surprise.  He already had begun on the endeavor she's spoken about to Glass.  This dark endeavor to make use of the dastardly for the cause of safety.

"I don't know whether to be proud or dismayed of yours and Edwin's co-operation," she said with an equally ambiguous inflection.  Was it disappointment or impress? She'd have flayed Glass if they hadn't already agreed to move forward, if it hadn't already been his idea.  She didn't like that notions flowed beneath her like a hidden stream.  She was the head of the Ministry, its sight, its conscience.  But that alone would be cause enough for things to move without her knowledge, else they not move at all. 

She took a slow breath and let her eyes rest on the empty space of desk just in front of her.  The Minister allowed her thoughts to settle, to sit in the reality of what was already in motion.  Gamp was wrapping things up, good for him.  A professional sort who could read the chain.  And then he offered the change at a social encounter.

Surprisingly, Persepolis beamed! "That would be lovely.  Speak with Holmes.  He'll know my schedule."  The single witch had been thirsting for a bit of diversion, even in the company of those so stiff and mysterious as the Gamps.  With that, she stood and reached across to shake hands.

"Good work, Gamp. Report back.  No paper." 

Mortimer was charmed to hear that the Minister would be overjoyed to come and take dinner with he and his wife. Beyond the polite demonstration of being a good colleague, it was a demonstration of power and influence when you could invite the Minister for dinner.

Outwardly, he smiled graciously and nodded to her suggestion of checking with Holmes. Getting to his feet, a little less swiftly than the younger witch, he shook her hand firmly.

"You have my word." He assured her with a tilt of his head. Giving her a half bow, he departed from Zephyr's office, still stinging from the conversation over finances. He'd not budge, of course, but she could think she'd won this round.



End