Percy Weasley (sentimentalist) wrote in disorderic, @ 2017-09-15 15:08:00 |
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Entry tags: | gawain robards, percy weasley |
WHO: Gawain Robards & Percy Weasley
WHEN: 13 September, 20:00
WHERE: Amongst the lions at Trafalgar Square.
SUMMARY: The seeking of allies and the making of plans.
WARNINGS: N/A
An unsigned paper had made its way to Gawain’s desk. 20:00, Trafalgar Square, I’ll bring the coffee. Percy Weasley knew he was being dramatic within the scope of his caution and his setting as he leaned against the great base of one of the lions, holding onto both cups of coffee. But he chose to indulge this melodrama, to set the scene and let the symbolism speak for itself. The truth was he was feeling more alone than ever. And if he were to continue to persevere in the Ministry, he needed an ally. Seemingly, Gawain Robards’ stance was the same as his. Protect the ship. Protect the state. Don’t give way. But Gawain managed it in a far more direct way than he did. And as such, he wanted to ally himself however secretively and attempt to partner or use resources against the likes of the Death Eaters slowly but surely taking the reins of power within the Ministry. He took a sip of coffee. It simply wouldn’t do for the Head of Aurors to not stand tall in the face of oppression, even when delivered by the very institution that employed him. The citizens needed to see Auror Gawain Robards present and unafraid of the escaped Death Eater, and equally they needed to see someone still respected the rule of law. Except it wasn’t enough. Gawain had waited, biding his time throughout August to see when the Wizengamot -- or the Minister -- would come to its senses, but it hadn’t come to pass. August had bled into September, and he couldn’t simply sit around while Death Eaters committed genocide. Which predictably left Gawain at a crossroads where loyalty to the Ministry meant circumventing some of it, but his charge was to the public ultimately. It was time to make some moves, and this evening that was meeting with one Percy Weasley. Dressed in a simple grey trenchcoat, Gawain Robards approached the assigned meeting location at the precise moment indicated. He didn’t look out of place in the slightest, perhaps just another London businessman that had been working later into the evening. It was with a nod of his head towards his cohort that he finally spoke, a simple polite greeting. “Wilson.” If Weasley wanted to play spy he may as well go along. “Roberts.” He extended his hand, offering the small cup of coffee, returning that nod with a minute smile. This was an olive branch. And maybe, a step further down the rabbit hole. But it was the battle he wanted to fight with the allies necessary to do what was right for the State. “You have no reason to trust me. But I believe that we want the same things. I, however, have been lately finding myself quite alone. And the more certain other parties find themselves with positions, the more I find myself in the need of allies.” Taking both hand and then coffee one after another, Gawain settled against the statue beside his cohort, head tilted the side scrutinizing Weasley as the younger man spoke. “Perhaps not personally,” Gawain answered bluntly, and then took a sip from the steaming cup of coffee to let that settle. It was honest, but they also both knew it. However, Percy Weasley had proven much like others where his loyalties lay. “You’ve proven your loyalty to the Ministry.” There were clear differences between Weasley and someone like Umbridge, who had pitifully shown that power was the only thing that motivated her. “Rabastan Lestrange won’t be the last.” Gawain let that statement hang in the air and glanced down at his steaming coffee cup. “I believe we’re certainly on the same side, and we can’t allow this.” There was no sense holding his hand further, nor was there any real reason for the Death Eaters to send Weasley out after him -- they knew him and his loyalties already. “Honestly, I don’t think he’s the first.” Percy had seen too much fraternization amongst some of the bureaucrats within Thicknesse’s circle, seen Umbridge get cozy with the Lestranges, and now … ? It made sense to him that even if they were not out-and-out running things, they were certainly within the power of it. And he would never forget the day they killed Rufus Scrimgeour to take it by force. “So, not to be a simpleton, but where do we start? Because the more I unravel, the more I have to work not to lose conviction.” “Undoubtedly not,” Gawain mused, contemplating that for a moment. He didn’t figure Umbridge for the type, but she was certainly assisting them nonetheless. Macnair had been in the Ministry prior as had some others, not to mention deeply placed spies like Rookwood during the war almost two decades ago. “It’s the ones we don’t know of that are the biggest threat to us, believe that or not.” Lestrange was an issue, but he was a known piece on the chessboard. Another sip of coffee while Gawain thought about it, and then he spoke. “We need to determine which of the Wizengamot are acting of their free will, and which are being coerced. The same goes for the Minister. I never thought Pius the type, but I’m hardly infallible.” He brought his free hand up to rub his chin. “Breaking their hold on the legitimate government to allow us to work is the most immediate goal.” “I can tell you that Thicknesse is probably not in his right mind. There are times he can’t string together a sentence, and moments in which he’s entirely not there.” Percy had his ideas about Thicknesse probably being under the Imperius. But he also wanted a trained Auror to come at it with full objectivity. “Other times, he’s sharp. And the door closes with regularity every day.” He took a breath. “And in the Wizengamot chamber, it’s Mafalda Hopkirk I might look to. She’s terrified of Umbridge, but holds her seat because she stays silent.” Gawain nodded at the news about Thicknesse. “Confirmation was needed.” He cleared his throat. “Suffice to say I haven’t been granted much face time with man since his promotion.” Which in itself was suspicious, but it wasn’t like he was a department head so it wasn’t the end all of it. “Hopkirk is a good start. We need to information; we have to figure out what we need to change.” He took another sip of the coffee. “Would that I could just arrest Lestrange, but he’d be out in seconds, and that brings us to another point, what to do with them if we have no court to convict or prison to hold?” There were a few options he’d been mulling over, but. “There’s not an easy or a perfect answer here, I’m afraid.” “I think we have to think about getting the right people in the right places before we think about reconstituting their life sentences,” Percy said softly. As much as he’d like to see Yaxley, Lestrange and Travers where they belonged instead of in the highest echelons of their government, he knew that they had work to do. “And if that’s referendum for a new Minister and a new government, I’m there for it.” “Of course, the system needs to be in place for this to move forwards.” Gawain mulled that over again, grateful that Percy Weasley was in fact here. “I’m no politician,” he admitted easily. The Auror was not a bureaucrat in any sense of the word, but Weasley was. He had the skills and connections within the Ministry itself. “I’ll will support you towards achieving that referendum.” Percy blinked. Did Gawain Robards just offer him support? Instead of showing his surprise, he merely smiled and gave a firm nod. Since the Ministry fell, he’d spent months trying to find his footing. Now, someone influential and powerful listened. It was time to go to work. “If you could let me know who else to trust in the coming days, that would be very good. I’ll start to feel out the appetite for referendum.” Everyone had their skills. Gawain’s heavily slanted towards investigation and detaining those dark wizards; dueling and arresting. He was not a policymaker, and if the Wizengamot wasn’t going to see the completely obvious truth in the Ministry right now he was likely not going to convince anyone by pulling out case files or pointing at Rabastan Lestrange. Instead, he’d lend his support to someone versed in that area. “Of course. I’ll vet the options, and let you know.” Coffee drained and cup summarily tossed in a bin, he looked at his new comrade with a different sort of eye. Together, they might salvage their government, if the vigilantes didn’t tear them all apart first. “See you later, Roberts,” he muttered. Then, with a crisp turn on his heel, he began striding toward Charing Cross. When he broached a sign advertising the latest broadband internet, he was gone. |