Revelation--Atrum

“Could you be any more shorter?” Brother-Bot hissed as he struggled to take his last few drags in privacy. Millie scowled at him and continued to jump in an attempt to see over the heads of the people. For people like her brother, it was easy because he wasn’t nearly as vertically challenged as she was in times like this, in a crowd where everyone seemed to be taller than the girl that was quite tall in her own right. The pair weren’t exactly there voluntarily but their parents had decided it was necessary. Seamus seemed to think that things that happened in the Department of Law and Enforcement and in the Minister’s office seemed to apply to him in the Department of Magical Games and Sports where as Lavender was more interested in the plucky git from human resources that was stood amongst a cluster of interns and workers over by one of the large Greek-style columns. Both of their parents had disappeared and her brother had taken it upon himself to have a hasty cigarette before the proverbial hit the fan. He just wanted to get back to his computer, the ass.

Millie gave a squeal as she felt her brother’s large hands on her legs and she grasped his shirt in an iron grip as he lifted her up onto his shoulders. He chuckled and Millie slapped his hand before picking the camera up from where it had rested on her stomach. She brought it to her face and squinted as she peered into it. She carefully pushed the zoom scroller to the right and pressed the capture button. The shutters around the lens snapped and she grinned as the photograph appeared on the screen. Millie leaned over and showed him the camera. A smile ghosted across his lips and the pair looked down at the picture of their father talking to a pair of colleagues and for a few moments they were united until he slapped her leg and Millie straightened up, ready to take the pictures.

“Ooh. Look, Ell, it’s the Head of the Order,” Millie took another picture, this time of Jess Potter, and looked down at the LCD screen again. “Mmm...yummy. Wouldn’t mind a bit of that myself.” Millie leaned over again and showed him the screen. “D’you think so? He looks like his feathers have been ruffled so either he’s peeved or he’d made use of his secretary." Somehow, Millie didn’t think it was the latter. “Yep, definitely miffed. Oh well, wouldn’t you be if the Minister you’ve worked under is suddenly being, well, replaced?” Her brother snorted. “Oh, sorry. Ruined the surprise? Please, Ell, dad’s been banging on all week. Shut up and get ready for the fireworks babe and for once it won’t be me setting them off because as soon as that new bloke is in charge, I bet you ten quid everyone will go completely insane. Maybe give it a day or too...keeping my options open. Ten quid, deal?” Her brother sighed. “Fine,” He muttered. “Deal”

The Tension had built enough.. the room was packed with people who were waiting to find out who this 'new' Minster of Magic was. Of course, she wasn't the one to announce that.. but it was her job to let everyone here know that the Ministry was united. Well.. as united as it was going to get. And as the Heads of all the Departments were united, the departments would be forced to follow along, or lose their job, and have a fun little.. chat, with some of the best in the business. Zoe glanced around the room, seeing Felix Barker and Zada Forbes, watching with interest as she prepared to take a step out onto the stage that was empty for the moment.

Straightening her shirt, she strode out onto the platform, and looked around the large assembly of people, feeling the butterflies, but ignoring them for the moment. She fixed the microphone so that it was up to her mouth, and she stood there, waiting for a moment of quiet from the group. "Good Day everyone." She said, her eyes gliding over the group of people, her voice loud over the room, making sure even the people at the back of the room could hear her. "In case you don't know me, my name is Zoe Gould, and I am the head of Department, for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Now, for me this new appointment was as big of surprise as it is for everyone here in this room. But after further talk with this person, I find that even though to most people he may seem a bit unlikely, I, as the head of my department, fully support this candidate, and give him my pledge of support." She announced, staring around the room, as though waiting for people to oppose her, and then lifted her wand up, nodded, and strode off stage, leaving it to James Roland again.

Michael walked into the Atrium, just in time to hear a willowy young girl making a bet with someone who had some familial resemblance. A student. She looked more like a Hufflepuff to him, but without the tell tale uniform, who knew for sure? At any rate, she did have a small bit of ego about her and she seemed to be waffling on much too casually about how the change of administration was about to affect her life. He walked up to her and whispered in her ear.

"That's not at all how to make an interesting bet, Child," he said. "If you really want to make it interesting, make the damned thing worthwhile. For example, I bet you wont' get through this next term without regretting this day in some form or another. And I have 100 galleons in my pocket ready to throw down on that right now. If you're woman enough."

However much he loved his sister, he wasn’t going to let her stay on his shoulders. It didn’t take long for Brother-Bot to shrug Millie off and she gave a shriek, clinging onto him for what felt like dear life. She giggled a she grasped her thighs to keep her steady and she released her hold of him, flopping onto the floor. He released her not a moment after and helped her back to her feet. Millie smiled and patted his cheek before taking his lighter from his pocket and beginning to roll it in her fingers, clicking the lid back and forth, back and forth.

It wasn’t until there was a hot breath of air on her ear that she jumped and realised someone was next to her. Millie blinked up at a slightly older man and frowned a little. “I doubt it,” She replied easily. “Please...this isn’t my problem. This is everyone else’s - anyone that cares about politics. Me? I just want a bloody drink. Say cheese-” Millie grinned and lifted the camera, hitting the button again to catch the man in an image. “Hi.” She smiled, dropping it down and holding out her hand. “I’m Millie Finnigan.”

"Roguefort. I'm Michael," he laughed, shaking hands with her. "So you're not a sporting woman, then? Shame." He pulled out a huge handful of galleons out of his pocket. "And I was serious too. Might do you good to be a student of politics--enough to save your own life with anyway. But if that doesn't interest you, then I suggest you study two things this term. First, study dueling. And second, study running. Because you're going to need to be good at one or the other or both. And when you change your mind, I'm sure you'll find your way to my office. Oh, and about that drink? Better make it pumpkin juice, Darling. You're still too young for the good stuff."

He was perfectly willing to bet her. After all, it hadn't been his galleons in the first place. He'd picked the pocket of every death eater he could find in the room. It had been a piece of cake. However, it was making his pocket a great deal heavier. Actually, he didn't need the money. He was merely practicing. One never wanted to get rusty on the small things. One never could tell when they just might come in handy.

Amelia was late, and that was a rare enough occurrence to make it an irritable one. She hated having to rush around to get places, and the ministry was so crowded when she got there that she was just reminded of how many other people were capable of being on time where she had failed. How embarrassing.

But at least the crowd made her arrival less noticeable. The last time she had been here had been for the graduation ceremony, and that situation, she had been a major player responsible for giving a speech in front of all her peers. Now, she was merely a face in the crowd, following slightly behind her father into the atrium. Her mother was performing in a series of concerts in Asia this month, so Antoinette would not be joining them tonight.

Antoinette's absence was the reason they were late, really. Amelia's father was very intelligent and responsible with his work, but he could be difficult to corral into being on time to events like these. Amelia had been trying to fill her mothers shoes when it came to making sure her father was presentable and on time, but she hadn't quite managed it. At least she had gotten to pick out her own outfit, which was thankfully nothing more than a simple brown pencil skirt and a pale green silk blouse. Nothing skin tight, nothing with glitter.

As Frederick and Amelia joined the throngs of people waiting for the announcement, Amelia inclined her head to her father's colleagues that waved in their direction. Hopefully this whole process would be brief and she and her father could go back home to their respective ways of filling the time when Antoinette was gone: Frederick in his study, and Amelia in the library or music room.

“Mmm...Blue Stilton,” She laughed in response. “I only said that this didn’t matter to me; not that I wouldn’t bet with you. There’s a whole day ahead of me yet, I’m bound to do something I’ll regret. C’est la vie.” Millie shrugged her shoulders and smiled. “I play Quidditch, I make the odd bet. I am quite lucky a lot of the time,” Millie straightened her shoulders. “But let’s say...one-hundred and fifty on the idea that I won’t regret this day? Sounds a bit better I think.” Millie smirked at him.

She then lifted her gaze up at the sound of a voice floating over the crowd. Her brother wound his arm around her waist and lifted her up, allowing her to take a photograph of the woman on the stage before setting her back down again. Millie glanced down at the screen and smiled before looking back up again and listening to her words. Millie made a face and gave a heavy sigh. “What a completely unnecessary thing to say,” She remarked airily. “However, I have a picture of a Department head. Meow. Look at her, Ell. Jesus.” Millie shook her head before looking back at Michael. “Pumpkin Juice? Please. There’s a gin a tonic with my name on it waiting at home and I’m not missing out just to drink pumpkin.” She wrinkled her nose. “Better make it two-hundred because I think this will be an almighty...uhm...mess up? That’s the clean way of saying it I suppose.”

“Dad. Dad! Where the....dad - wait!”

It wasn’t often that Ariel called Fenrir ‘Dad’ but it seemed appropriate today, almost. Ariel was finding it difficult to keep up with Fenrir, though. Under Polyjuice, he was completely safe. Ariel's mother hadn’t decided to come but he’d been lumped with Penny and Orion as well as Ollie who was suited and booted despite only working in the Department for Magical Games and Sports. Ariel liked to think he had something a little bit better than that. So he had Orion on one arm wile Ollie had Penny in his arms and Ariel was fretting like a mother hen while trying to keep up with his father who was moving like a freight train or something of the like. Finally though, they managed to find themselves some space and Ariel lifted Orion up into his arms so he could at least see. Why his mother had insisted they go he had no idea but the little witch and wizard seemed quite happy to be with them.

“Did you hear anything from that Head of Department of yours about the new Minister?” Fenrir asked, whirling around suddenly. Ariel’s eyebrows furrowed and he shook his head. “Right, no...I didn’t think so. Just...keep quiet and if anyone asks let me do the talking. Stun your pet if he starts coming onto anyone and we’ve got a good day. Hopefully we won’t both be killed by that nutty woman. She killed two of my guys once. Not a nice lady. Warped. Not right in the head.” Oh, says you. Ariel thought sarcastically.

"Two hundred, hey? But I'm not interested in whether or not you regret this day. Anybody can manage to drink enough to escape 24 hours. This is going to be a whole lot more lasting than 24 hours, I'm afraid. And thats the part that interests me. I am not particularly interested in supporting your gin habit unless you have a clear idea about whats coming enough for you to know what you're drinking for. What are you, anyway? Let me guess. Hufflepuff?" It was a question he couldn't lose by asking. If she had enough drive to make her a Gryffindor or a Slytherin, she'd think he was just a bit touched in the head. And, hell, MIchael was used to that. That didn't bother him a bit. And if she was a Ravenclaw, she'd just get arrogant with him.

There was something about her that he liked. He wasn't sure why he was led to such unusual people. He seemed to attract them. He only had a handful of relatively conservative people in his life. The rest? Well, not only would they not get along in the same room for very long, but they didn't seem to have much in common, except him.

"And if you're drinking with me, you'll drink something non alcoholic at least this time. I prefer not to lose my professorship before it really even starts. Give me a better bet to put my money on, and we have a deal."

“Touché,” Millie replied with a smirk. “I dunno. It depends who you’re with, eh Ell?” Millie glanced at her brother with a smirk. “We’ve got a friend -- Spencer Harris. Can’t even remember his mum’s name he’s so flipping topped up the entire time. I swear to Merlin he hasn’t been sober in the last year. Never mind though. C’est la vie, as ever. Um. Let’s see. Two hundred, providing I don’t get absolutely smashed and let’s say...half a term. No, ‘til Christmas. Surely this is all fun and games until someone gets hurt? I mean, isn’t that how it always works? Hey, the gin is free. That’s mum’s habit. I like stronger stuff. Better stuff. Can’t beat a gin and tonic with ice and a slice of lemon though.” Millie grinned. “At times, when the bottle of Ogden’s is empty and there is nothing in the packet of Marlboro’s you bought the night before...one can always turn to gin to save the day.” Millie quirked an eyebrow upwards. “I could do product placement...adverts...the works.”

“Yeah, right. Until Christmas then. If this day turns out to make every other day rubbish, basically, then I owe you two-hundred, yeah? Should be easy enough. I’m sure a new Minister won’t be that much of a problem.” Millie laughed. “Am I going to be eating my words by Yuletide, Michael?”