Morning


It was an unusual sort of meeting for an unusual sort of subject. For one, he had summoned the heads of department to his office rather than a conference chamber - the appropriate number of chairs and armchairs were brought in, arranged in a loose circle on the purple plush rug by the great fireplace.

Solomon occupied a chair closest to the fire whilst Yavin Morgenthau had taken up standing room by the mantle where he stood over a month ago[1] when all this had been broken to the Minister.

A copy of today's Prophet[2] lay on a table next to him, turned open to the relevant headline.

The last of them finally arrived and Sol pointedly cast the appropriate quieting charm, three-fold.

Shimmering blue light still lingered when Balfour Spectre shifted his curious gaze from the other Mr.Spectre and spoke up. "Don't tell me someone's gone and magicked away your meteorite, Morgenthau?"

It was said in a dry, good-humoured voice expected from the head of four.

"We could only be so lucky." Solomon muttered, leaning back in his armchair with a sigh.

1.	12th March - Why Speak of Right and Wrong
2.	16th April - Mysterious Deaths Prompt Travel Warning

Orr had confirmed no agenda had arrived. This was irregular. The Minister’s office were usually scrupulous about protocol with agendas sent in advance (even if matters arising could be hijacked). Instead, this was a mystery Monday morning meeting in the Minister’s office rather than the normal chamber.

Someone was going to get bollocked, or Solomon Carstairs was going to resign, Johann wagered in the lift. It seemed like a group meeting, rather than a personal summons (he had for a split second considered a ticking off for conduct on Saturday night at the photography exhibition’s rather exhibitionist outcome). Whatever it was, Gabrielle[1] would be pissed if she missed the drama, but she was away on official business and back later that week once some hurt feelings had been smoothed over. She was better at the smoothing than Johann, who could unwittingly have been the cause of said hurt feelings by being himself. Either way, the working partnership between Head of the Department for International Magical Cooperation and the Deputy worked with unspoken agreements.

The chairs were arranged for a fireside chat, cozy. Perhaps Carstairs had been on a manager’s course and was trying a new style of meeting. Johann counted the chairs quickly, noted their positions, arrangements for refreshments, and most importantly, the assembled figures. The Minister, seated by the fire, Morgenthau propped by the open grate, Pratt, Kuester, his most wonderful husband. Transport and Games[2] were missing, which gave Johann a stronger gut feeling that this was not a resignation, perhaps not an ear-bashing, but a whispering…

“Don’t tell me someone’s gone and magicked away your meteorite, Morgenthau?” Johann could instantly forgive Balfour of his ice-breaking humour, but the Winthrop incident had kept Silas Carstairs, Lorelei Wong and the North American team busy at the weekend. Johann had signed off on the amendments[3] from the Foreign Travel Advice team at home in Edinburgh and gone back to colouring in the outline of a dragon with pencil crayons alongside Cam and Artis while Lennox napped.

“We could only be so lucky.” Their boss replied, with a sigh.

“Latest report from Winthrop is the death toll has increased by three overnight. Two muggles, frailer ones, and a British national.” Johann delivered, with less humour. “Solo tourist, not that it makes it better…” He slipped a memo across the cluster of chairs to Carstairs to glance at. “The Confederation have sent a couple of observers.” Supposedly there to help the Americans, but more likely to ensure the ICW had eyes everywhere to handle the greater fall out and risk to the International Statute, Kuester’s daily headache at Magical Accidents and Catastrophes.

1.	Written by Ames
2.	Ministry Staff Timeline
3.	The Department of International Magical Cooperation has issued a travel warning for remote areas in the Pacific Northwest of the United States

Yavin was looking relatively mild today, in his plain cream jumper over dark slacks. If he had known that the Minister was going to call this meeting he might have opted for formal robes but Solomon Carstairs must have taken one look at the morning paper and decided today was the day they were going to have it out in the open.

At least among the heads of department, anyway.

He smiled dryly at head of Four, while the man's husband delivered an update on Winthrop.

It was appropriate for Johann to open the true nature of their discussion. The dark-haired Spectre was the only other wizard here, besides Sol, who knew[1] about CAWW's activities - a sensible figure off Five with more flexible responsibilities than his superior and a better mind for covert intelligence.

       “... Confederation have sent a couple of observers.”
"I think they will find that, ah, that situation will resolve itself quite neatly."

If he knew Hawthorne half as well as he thought, they'd want to quickly wrap it up after facing failure.

Solomon glanced up from Johann's memo. "Right then. Perhaps you ought to enlighten the rest of the room, Morgenthau."

Rip the band-aid off, was it? That suited him well. They were already here, there wasn't a reason to prevaricate for any longer.

"Happily." Yavin glanced about the room, smile turning to grimace. "In, hm, in no uncertain terms. The Americans... that is, CAWW, in conjunction with its Mysteries body, Eldritch & Profane, are developing a weapon of mass murder. The, ah, the weapon is intended to target muggles, to the exclusion of wixkind."

He nodded at the Prophet pointedly. "According to our agent[2] across the pond, we have reason to believe this was their first trial run."

1.	26th Feb - A Circus in My Mind
2.	31st March - A Soul With No King

The Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was seated comfortably not far from the Minister for Magic. Having been an auror for most of his career, Pratt was in the habit of always being able to keep an eye on the door. Never did he sit in a room with his back to the door if he could help it. Always prepared, even as a wizard now in smart robes behind a desk. Regardless of the smart robes and the location within the Minister for Magic’s office, Pratt was still not wearing a tie. His white shirt collar was unbuttoned and his legs were crossed comfortably, ankle resting on the opposite knee as he took a sip of coffee.

Pratt didn’t join in with Spectre’s light hearted comments. This was clearly a situation of import considering the last minute summons and lack of agenda. He’d prefer they cut to the chase instead of engage in small talk.

When Yavin did elucidate, Pratt’s expression turned especially dry. He’d expected bad but not that level of bad.

“Well, shit.” Was all the Head of MLE had to say on the matter at this particular moment.

To his right, Evangaline Kuester shifted uncomfortably in her chair. Being a muggleborn, this probably would hit even closer to home for her.
“Suddenly it become clearer.” The german witch quietly muttered.

His entire thought process, as soon as Morgenthau stopped speaking, was a series of expletives.

This felt above his pay grade despite the fact that he was a head of department. In all fairness it felt above all their fucking pay grades - it didn't feel real at all. Balfour forced his gaze off Mysteries to seek the only countenance he really trusted in this room. Johann, though, didn't appear surprised.

Ah. Of course. His husband already knew. What with 'agents across the pond', that shouldn't shock him.

       "For now," the Minister was speaking, "we don't know if they will or won't continue to develop this kind of weapon."
"Poison," Morgenthau supplied helpfully. "In the local water supply."

There were other options? Gods help them.

"But we know they're willing to kill their own people, testing it." Balfour observed, rubbing the side of his forehead, where a headache bloomed. "I didn't realise things had gotten that bad."

“.. Perhaps you ought to enlighten the rest of the room-” Johann felt himself intake half a breath, “Morgenthau.” He let it out again.

“Happily.”

Johann might have picked a different adverb, but he kept that to himself. Balfour, Kuester, Pratt all took in the news for the first time, exhibiting shock, though generally expressed professionally (well, for Pratt). Johann kept them in his periphery as much as possible and stared into the fire, existing with the uncomfortable thoughts now shared.

He felt Balfour’s eyes and glanced to meet them, his face straight but with a tinge of sadness and anxiety. At least he could say something to Balfour in private about it all. It had been occupying his thoughts and he’d had to give the generic ‘something I can’t talk about at work’ explanation for his frowns. It was really not to be spoken about if he couldn’t give anonymised or comparative fictional situations to convey what was on his mind.

“.. we don’t know if they will or won’t continue to develop this kind of weapon.” The Minister added to the explanation.
   “Poison. In the local water supply.” Morgenthau coloured in between the lines.

“I didn’t realise things had gotten that bad.”
   “You have a large population you can afford to lose a few.” Johann commented dismissively with a shrug, though his lack of humour and jerky movements communicated his disgust. “Seems odd though,” he continued - thinking for a split second that the rest of the room would consider that an understatement. “it seems more on brand to target a poor muggle community first rather than a haunt of affluent skiiers. Less people would care, whereas this has got attention.”

He gestured to the newspaper. “Are we sure this is just a test, and not a demonstration?” Johann looked up to Morgenthau and Carstairs. There were weapons you used, and weapons you sold to the worst to allow them to do it while you kept your hands seemingly clean… 

They were all taking this far better than he had when Morgenthau first dropped the news - but then again, none of them had to sit down as part of the G8 3/4 later this month and decide whether or not they should have this all out in the open to discuss.

Solomon exchanged a glance with the head of Mysteries, when Johann Spectre remarked on the oddness of the poisonings.

       "It, ah, it might be both." Yavin answered in a reluctant voice. "There's also reason to believe an Unspeakable on the inside is, hm, is trying to increase visibility. Eldritch & Profane are not united in opinion."

It was frustrating. He wished he could sit Cassius Inglethorpe down and ask what the bloody hell his intentions were.

Knowing that slippery bastard, Inglethorpe would feign ignorance.

"The long and short of it is that we have no way to curtail the development of this weapon." Sol looked around the room, grim. "Not without disclosing what we know to the international community."

Diplomacy and sanctions might, then, be utilised.

       "Is that what we're leaning towards?" Balfour Spectre asked, gaze flicking between the Minister and his husband.

"I don't know." Solomon replied, quite simply. "It's a decision I can't make alone, or lightly. We could very well be making a powerful enemy out of CAWW."

"Friends closer. Enemies closer." Brinley Abbott agreed. The other side of the fire to Solomon Carstairs. He was seated. File open on his folded legs which he added Johann's memo to. Writing inside it with a quill. He was not a Department Head. He was the Minister's closest aide. The Senior Undersecretary. Brinley Abbott made sure things got done day to day while Ministers played politics. Some people joked he really ran the Ministry. But Abbott would never be so arrogant as to agree. He made cogs turn. He oiled them. He span plates. Juggled balls. But ultimately he took his orders from Solomon Carstairs. Even if he disagreed with them. He had seen each of the people in this room disagree with Carstairs, Glass, Zephyr. Disagreement was healthy.

What CAWW was up to was of high concern. Level Nine lost people now and again. That was of concern too. But they turned up or they were the sort who deserved to disappear like Lyra and Mortimer Gamp. Nobody would be surprised to find those skeletons in a Mysteries closet. It was different when the ethically unsound actions were undertaken by a country you were publicly aligned with. On the one hand you were glad to be on their team and not their target. On the other you were meant to stop friends ending the world.

"Do we have any idea what the Muggle President was told? I anticipate the PM will talking to their portrait soon enough." Brinley was referring to the portrait that could not be removed from the British Prime Minister's office that allowed communication between the Member of Parliament for magical peoples and secret cabinet member. Better known as the Minister for Magic. Solomon Carstairs.

It felt very strongly that every day someone was trying to desecrate the statute of secrecy and expose wizardkind. Evangeline Kuester found herself very much to be the head of the clean up squid within the Ministry, the gatekeepers between wixes and muggles. She would likely understand the delay in sharing information with her after time to process it, but for now, she was feeling frustrated and concerned that Carstairs’ hadn’t deemed it prudent to share with her prior to this meeting.

Blue eyes darted between her colleagues as Eva silently took in what was being said. Poison in the water supply meant it could have very well been a substantial death toll. It also meant an easy way to hit everyone as water was an essential for mage and muggle alike. When Johann Spectre made the suggestion of it being a demonstration rather than a test, Eva felt her stomach drop. That seemed even more concerning.

"There's also reason to believe an Unspeakable on the inside is, hm, is trying to increase visibility. Eldritch & Profane are not united in opinion." Yavin clarified, and Eva frowned. There was a group in Britain clearly attempting to increase visibility of magic people here, though not seemingly with an intention to kill the muggles.

“We could very well be making a powerful enemy out of CAWW.” As he should be, Carstairs was concerned about his own next steps in the matter.

“What is to say we haven't already inadvertently done that? Or that we won’t be caught in the crossfire? They clearly have a disregard for expending their own people as well as the muggles.”

It was telling, these different reactions to the news. Head of Two was blunt as expected and the other Mr. Spectre was already in the mind of a team player, trying to gauge what kind of approach they would be taking as a collective.

       "As far as I can tell, the muggle vice president hasn't been told anything," Solomon answered Abbott with a pained look. "Shaw himself is still out[1] of the loop. I'll be in touch with our PM after the summit."

That was, of course, another reason things were looking unstable in the new world. This was the first time a sitting US president had to be obliviated and made unaware of the wizarding world - his vice president was the CAWW contact but not to quite the same extent.

Yavin crossed his arms, leaning more heavily against the mantle.

       "What is to say we haven't already inadvertently done that?" Kuester spoke up - a survivor of the last war, her concerns were natural.

"Intelligence informs they, ah they have suspicions about us, but they don't know to what extent we've been tipped off..." he paused and glanced at Johann for a second, before turning his attention back to the witch. "I think it more likely they will want to, uh, to consolidate forces instead of setting themselves against us."

The Americans were officially allies, after all.

Yavin removed his spectacles tiredly, rubbing his eyes. "It's what I would do," he admitted. "It's a no-maj problem, how they see it. When - not if - they find out we're aware, they, ah, they'll likely make an offer of cooperation first."

1.	26th Dec 2016 - Christmas Day Catastrophe: CAWW Breaks with Tradition

Morgenthau conceded the incident might be both a trial and a demonstration, but also suggested that someone on the inside had purposely swayed the choice to increase the public visibility.

“… we have no way to curtail the development of this weapon.” The Minister delivered solemnly. “… without disclosing what we know…”

Those conversations at the G8 3/4 were going to be mighty uncomfortable. Five had been listening out and asking the odd suggestive question to see who else might know about what Eldritch and Profane were up to, other than the Chinese who were already cooperating.

“Do we have any idea what the Muggle President was told?” Brinley Abbott asked, taking notes.
   “… vice president hasn’t been told anything. Shaw … out of the loop.” The Muggle President of the United States had nearly enabled the greatest breach of the Statue of Secrecy in history, and it had been an obliviation job and a half.

Kuester was concerned that the Americans already knew that the British Ministry was poking around.
“… they don’t know to what extent we’ve been tipped off…” Morgenthau reassured her and glanced in Johann’s direction. He nodded, agreeing and looked to Kuester, nodding again to convey some reassurance.

“… consolidate forces instead of setting themselves against us.”

“They will have to explain what’s happened at Winthrop one way or another.” Johann lifted his shoulders in consideration. “There will be an official reason and the one more easily swallowed. Trouble is with cooperation, if we don’t, we lose a strong ally and won’t know what they’re up to. But if we’re in bed… we can at least have some influence on what happens.” He looked queasy.

“Either way, it’s probably a good idea for Three to lead a few scenarios and prepare.” Johann gestured respectfully to Kuester, not at all intending to tell his colleague how to do her job, but more suggesting what would make them all feel less incapable at getting to grips with the situation.

The Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes ran regular Emergency Planning Exercises, known as EPEs. They were run throughout the year, either as theoretical exercises, a table-top simulation or full blown acted out.[1] There were the more obvious ones like a dragon escaping, which involved Level Four, large-scale breaches of the Statute (which had proven invaluable with the Futurists) and such. The Department also had fingers, toes, ears and eyes in all kinds of Muggle areas like hospitals, government departments, the police and such. Squibs would find very lucrative work in this roles, raking in both the Muggle salary and a retainer from the Ministry of Magic. Had Johann not been able to wield a wand he would have thrived in such a position.

1.	Edwin Glass explains them to Sameera Taylor - 4th January 2011 A Little more Conversation

Brinley made more notes. Politics moved slowly when you wanted to get something done. But you had to move fast when it was a PR disaster. This was definitely the latter.

"Do we want to cooperate?" Asked Brinley coming back to the fact. The opposite was just as dangerous but a decision would need a reply. Solomon might be put on the spot. Johann put forward the obvious weighing up of the problem. Turning it to a suggestion to Eva to take some action. It could feel like you could do nothing at times like this. Just watch the broom crash.

He removed his spectacles, wiping them with a clean handkerchief as he spoke.

"I suppose it depends on what cooperation entails..." Solomon sighed. "The thing is, they will find a way to develop this weapon by hook or by crook. I'm not entirely certain we can prevent them, even if we were to involve the ICW in all this."

The Confederation had influence and it could certainly try to stong-arm CAWW into an agreement of sorts - but on the ground level of things, there was no way to openly monitor Eldritch & Profane. If ICW demanded it then the Americans would demand the Mysteries equivalent of every other government be subject to the some level of transparency.

And nobody would agree to that.

       "If we cooperate, we can, ah, we can ensure the weapon is in our hands as well as theirs," Morgenthau proposed.

"Little comfort, should the media get hold of anything." Sol drawled and wore his glasses again, shooting Yavin a grim smile. "All the progress we've made, trying to move away from purist rhetoric, and then the public finds this out..."

He trailed off unhappily.