"I'm not very good at being taken care of," Morag said airily, sipping at her bottle absently before shoving a finger full of errant cheese into her mouth. And she wasn't. Relief though it was to have someone here with food and company, she didn't like feeling vulnerable on anyone's terms but her own; she liked to be needed, not needy, and she would have taken care of Sally Anne in an instant if needed. Even if not needed.
She imagined that the Ministry was easing them into things because otherwise there'd be a public outcry, not just the murmurs of discontent -- but she wished the same, even if for different reasons. If he just came out and said what he wanted, there could be a revolution, or at least an outcry, a push for change, serious resistance. Something that wasn't just an occasional inconvenience or bit of destruction.
"Mm" she said, a non-committal noise that adequately expressed her general uncertainty about politics, law, and life in general. "Time to build resentment and a consistently shifting floor for those of us who have to carry out fluid laws."