Violet Slughorn (laodicean) wrote in disorderic, @ 2018-05-03 18:53:00 |
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Entry tags: | violet slughorn |
WHO: Violet Slughorn
WHAT: Meeting with a journalist
WHEN: May 1st
WHERE: France
WARNINGS: Discussion of violent events that have happened
Violet still hadn’t decided on where to settle. Her meetings with people from foreign Ministries all had similar results. While everyone she reached out to was willing to help bring her into the country as a refugee and ensure that she was quickly enrolled in the healthcare system, people were far less willing to do anything to help Britain as a whole. She understood some of the reasoning, though she couldn’t help but feel that some of it was just making excuses. In some ways, France would be the best place to settle. She had dual citizenship, spoke French fluently, and had a bank account here. She had relatives and friends of family here. On the other hand, it was also the most predictable place for her to go, and too geographically close to Britain for her comfort. That might be fine while she was still pregnant, but she worried about what might happen after she gave birth. Perhaps Dante meant it when he said he wasn’t going to go looking for her. No one else had given her any such assurance. For now, she was going to keep reaching out to people. She would go overseas if it came to that. Perhaps those at MACUSA would feel less intimidated by the prospect of interfering with an ocean between them and Britain. Today she had a meeting with Yvonne Proveau, a journalist from the oldest and most widely circulated magical publication in France, La Monde de la Magie. Violet chose her attire carefully, dressing in business maternity wear. Rather than hide her bump, it served to present it tidily. Violet did her makeup and hair, taking care to look every bit the Ministry worker that she was. “Violet Slughorn?” Yvonne questioned when Violet arrived in her office 10 minutes early. “Come in and have a seat.” “Thank you.” Violet opened her laptop, pulling up the folder where everything she’d carefully screencapped resided, along with the list of links. “I’m going to be recording this conversation,” Yvonne told her. “I hope that’s all right.” “Yes, go ahead,” said Violet. “I had planned on doing the same.” Before Yvonne said anything else, she set her laptop to record. “So, you fled England because it’s dangerous and the government has been taken over by Death Eaters, is that correct?” “Yes,” Violet confirmed. “Nearly every department of the Ministry has a Death Eater in it. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement has three. Other major institutions in Britain have been similarly taken over, including the country’s most prominent hospital, St. Mungo’s, and Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.” “How alarming,” Yvonne said. “How did they take over in the first place?” “Almost overnight. Some of them had been broken out of Azkaban before, and then in the past summer, Minister Scrimgeour was killed. Since he was the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Pius Thicknesse became the Minister. It wasn’t long before he began appointing convicted Death Eaters to high ranked positions. Rabastan Lestrange, convicted for torturing Aurors Frank and Alice Longbottom with the Cruciatus curse until they lost their minds, became Head Obliviator. Ignatius Travers, convicted for murdering the McKinnon family, became Investigator for the Minister’s Office.” Violet was careful to focus on those who were famously convicted. Listing off all of the Death Eaters would detract from the message and with so many records destroyed, it was best to focus on those whose names may have been mentioned in publications of neighbouring countries when the Death Eater regime fell the first time. “No wonder you fled the country. Did your family join you?” “No.” She had no idea why Yvonne would ask, but there was no harm in mentioning that. “What about the father of your child?” Violet wasn’t about to disclose that story for a journalist. While it was possible that Yvonne could find out on her own eventually, Violet wasn’t going to highlight it. “No. I left on my own, without telling anyone I was leaving. Too many people that I knew were either unwilling to oppose the Death Eater regime or they were accepting of it...and I realized that staying, being pleasant to Death Eaters, and not speaking out against them was a bad example for my child.” “How far along are you in your pregnancy?” It was at that question that Violet arched a slim blonde eyebrow. They were supposed to be talking about Britain's situation under Death Eater control, and Yvonne’s line of questioning had turned to her personal circumstances. “Why are you asking?” “A young expectant mother fleeing a facist regime all by herself? It would make an excellent human interest story. Very tragic, very sympathetic.” Violet was incredulous. Rather than raise her voice, her tone became very stern and cold as she reached into her bag. “People are dying, and you want to turn me into a human interest story?” “Individual stories add a personal touch that resonates with the readers,” Yvonne began to explain, shrinking back a bit at the icy reproach. Violet cut her off, slapping down a copy of the Daily Prophet in front of Yvonne. The February 6th issue that covered Gawain Robards’ death. “Perhaps you might want to tell the story of Gawain Robards, a man who was Head Auror and then ran successfully for a seat in the Wizengamot seat so that he could try to oppose the Death Eater regime within the bounds of the law. Bellatrix Lestrange was not even charged despite her admission to killing him right in the Ministry building.” She pulled out the February 28th issue of the Beacon, setting that down next. “The current head of the DMLE, Corban Yaxley, had the poor man’s corpse dug up and left in the DMLE office as a warning to what might happen to staff who oppose the regime.” Yvonne’s eyes widened as she read the articles. Violet didn’t give her the chance to speak. She pressed onward as she pulled up a series of pictures and screencaptures on her laptop. “Or you might tell the story of famous quidditch player Craig Wood, and how he’s been imprisoned in Azkaban for not wanting his daughter to taught by Death Eaters that torture disobedient students, including making them write lines with quills that cut whatever they’re writing into their hands. It leaves permanent scarring, you know.” Whirling her laptop around, she showed the pictures of the emaciated Muggleborns in Diagon Alley. “Or you could tell the individual story of any one of these Muggleborn citizens who were expected to register with the Muggleborn Registration Committee, turn in their wands, but weren’t permitted to leave. It was illegal to help any of them to leave. Diagon Alley is well warded to alert the Death Eaters if anyone tries. It’s even illegal just to offer them shelter.” “This is...this is a lot,” Yvonne finally managed to say. It was clear that even the reporters who had learned a little more about Britain’s situation than the Death Eaters in power would have liked still had no idea of how bad things had gotten. And even then, Violet hadn’t covered all of the details. “You could write a lot of articles,” Violet suggested. “All of them far more interesting and significant than a story about me.” She managed a small smile. “Save that for when the war is over and I invent something amazing one day.” |