Called on the Carpet

"Oh, I agree completely," she said, motioning for him to sit.  "Marcus, tea, please."  Marcus silently poured Eli a cup of tea and put it on the coffee table in front of the empty chair across from Khaat and then warmed up her cup too.

"I haven't bothered you lately," she said, "even when I probably should have.  But tonight is different. I don't have a choice. I presume you know what a lynch mob is? Well, after tonight's emergencies, if we aren't actively seen as stepping up where we're needed, the public might well be forming lynch mobs to come after those in charge, and I am guessing your name might well be on top of the list. "  

She was struggling against her own hurt and bitterness with him, and she was working hard to be professional and cordial--as nonpersonal as she knew how to be.  For whatever reason, he just hadn't been around. Apparently, it was his choice. Nevertheless, it didn't answer her questions, though--the ones that continued to gnaw on her heart.  He was family. Yet, where had he been when Blood had nearly literally ripped her apart? Where had he been while healers spent hours in surgery trying to save her life or when she was in ICU barely alive? Where had he been when the press and the wizarding community had been upset because now neither Lupins were at their posts? Where had he been when the world had learned of how horrid a killing machine James Blood could be?  That had been weeks ago. Why had he not been clearly seen at the helm, working to resolve this, even if he hadn't given a damn about her?  Why had he done nothing to try to reassure the public that the Ministry did care about the personal safety of its citizens? And where had he been tonight?  How was it that every security alarm her family and the Ministry knew had been set off three times now--the alarm that well should have brought every auror and official in the Ministry--and Eli hadn't shown his face at all at any of them?  

She took a deep breath, more to reel in her heart than anything else, made sure she felt confident in her composure, and then she spoke.

"There has been a disaster tonight.  I don't know any other word for it," she said quietly.  "Hogsmeade was attacked and set on fire.  Hogwarts was also attacked and breeched by two different dark forces.  One man and a student are both dead.  Four other students are missing, one auror was badly injured, and the castle was set on fire. Only one Hogwarts staff member responded.  And only four aurors--two of them from my own household. One Death Eater responded, one other member of the Wizengamot, and everyone else who showed up was from my own house.  And despite every alarm we have in our world being sounded, there was no Deputy Minister, no other aurors, no headmaster, no professors...nothing."  When she had the opportunity to be demanding and sharp tongued--and wanted to be--she didn't take it.  "I think we have a problem that is likely to get bigger by the time England's witches and wizards start to wake up in a couple of hours," she said gently.

There was a twinge of irritation in Elijah that he couldn’t quite beat away. It was something that wanted to rise up and spit out that none of the events that had transpired had been his fault. He, had he had it his own way, would have had all rogue werewolves chucked in Azkaban but the reformist specialists in the Department of Fluffies saw no need to impinge on their rights. He doubted very highly that their opinions differed much but Elijah lived in hope that the Ministry might be able to exercise some control over what was going on. It ultimately wasn’t his total responsibility. He knew what was going on with Robert but in the eyes of the public, he was the Deputy – the one in the shadows. It wasn’t up to him to sort out the trials and tribulations of their republic. Of course, if he could allow a bunch of phoney laws to pass through undetected by the Ministry officials and screw everyone and everything in their world then he could deal with a few misbehaving dogs, surely? There was no rescuing that situation, clearly.

With a sigh, Elijah leaned forward and reached for the teacup. He took a sip and shook his head, unable to quite believe that what was being said was actually the full and total truth. While he knew that Hogwarts had its issues, he was beyond done with the constant need for it to be breached and for combatants to make it a battle ground. It seemed that the world had forgotten it was merely and always would be a school. Beyond that it was a place of sanctuary and not somewhere where wizards could run recklessly about, showing their so-called prowess by running down a load of school children who knew no better and were greener than the grass they did battle on. It wasn’t a place for the grown-up wizard to be trying his or her hand at lordship and subordination over another.

Yet still, the world persisted.

Also, Khaat was less than amused. Of course, Elijah had taken in her appearance and questions had risen with bell tolls at the front of his mind but he could think of no more reasons for her weariness or her hurts. He sought a quiet life. His resignation was a waiting, eventual thing that he had locked in his desk drawer at home. Who he’d give it to, ultimately, he wasn’t sure, but he was finished and done with the horrors and the dismal way that those in government – and not – led their lives constantly in the firing line regardless of what was at stake for the sake of the future. Elijah was a Slytherin. He wasn’t interested. He wanted his now and he wanted his future based on the assurance that he’d be there to conserve it. He wasn’t going to battle for anyone else if he could help it.

“The Prophet will put out its spiel,” Elijah expressed, setting down his cup. “And in a week it will blow over and it will be Christmas and all will be forgotten until the next rotten piece of fur rears its ugly head.”

He pursed his lips together thoughtfully before moving to continue.

“You’ll greet me with incredulity if I tell you I did not know but I will implore with you to believe that I did not. As it stands, I will move to ensure politically all is well and everyone in the Wizengamot and so on saves face on the matter. There’s nothing a few meetings with pressure groups and lobbyists won’t solve and, again, it will travel out on a northern breeze.”

He scratched at his temple absent-mindedly before rising to his feet.

“Clearly, I had better get to the Ministry then and do some much needed damage control. Though, of course, the school should take some responsibility and draw up better wards and sort out their staff, I stress. That said, clearly the law department needs a good talking to I’d imagine. The Aurors can be dispatched within the hour most probably and they’ll be on their way to pick up the missing students, or at least on their trail. I should imagine that about covers it, yes?”

Oh, and there it was again. How many times had she seen that over the years? The little boy that lay within, under the artwork of the costume he'd made for himself. He had had to protect himself from the iceberg who was his father and the dingbat who called herself his mother and the whole chain of dysfunction that surrounded them.

Then there had been the death of Fauve's mother. It had threatened to consume him. Somewhere in there, he'd constructed the shell of the artist who drank too much, smoked too much, and who had a different woman for every day of the month.  He had surrounded himself with the legendary myth of, well, himself and the success that, supposedly had been God given and blessed by angels.  

Khaat had seen too often when it didn't work for him. When reality smacked him in the face and when he couldn't deal. When the world got too cold or too frightening, then the little boy inside always became defensive. And, instead of the man, there was the insecure boy, sitting across from her and drinking tea while he looked for something to wrap some false bravado around.

She had a slight advantage tonight. She had done her very damnedest to shove the mother in her so far deep inside her core that, with a bit of luck, that part of her wouldn't be able to find her way back out until he'd gone. Instead, she pushed forward what she had learned, first, from her family and then had practiced under the tutelage of Felix Barker: the ability to hide her heart, and she hid it now from him hurting her by his distance. Ironically, she had learned it first to shield him. The irony of where she felt she was tonight almost seemed like the sting of a freezing winter rain slashing like needles against her skin. He was, essentially, tossing out what frightened him, and he couldn't do that, at the moment, without tossing her out right along with it. She attempted to steel herself.

"I've already seen to talking to the Headmaster about the school," she said. "Not that I wanted to. I suggest you give Rookwood a chance to rally his staff--or not, as the case may be.

"Believe it or not, I am doing my best to find the werewolves, but it is a tad difficult. And since there is no current head of law enforcement, that does not help.   Brian is the closest thing you have to that, and his authority is limited. So I won't bother to tell you what he's doing when he's off grid.

"James, no doubt has either turned the missing students already or killed them, but you won't get them back alive and untouched. If we find out where he is, we will kill him," she told him. Her ability to let Blood live had run out a long time ago.  

"I would appreciate it, though, if you didn't insult me by suggesting that I thought you knew about all this and was simply blowing it off. I'd also appreciate it if you didn't suggest that I brought you here at this hour because of my fear of a bad write up in the Prophet or some hit to my reputation or to the Wizengamot," she said, unable to hide a cold edge, much as she tried to.  

"What I do care about, aside from the very real danger that the werewolves present and that the lack of safety for students presents, is the likelihood that the citizens themselves might panic if they feel that we don't have the slightest ability to protect them.  Citizens do tend to take their own safety into their own hands if we cannot, reasonably, show that we're doing something.  

"If they do that, the outbreak of violence and crime in our community will be almost unprecedented. Screw the papers.  The more immediate issues is how we minimize civil unrest before we have rioting from the general public. That's a safety risk we cannot walk away from."