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Back to normal ... or not quite
Nov. 5th, 2008 06:11 pmReceived an owl from Professor Acton certifying that the doll Pansy found had been the source of her disturbing dreams. Minerva, she says that she provided you a copy as well. I still have not read her essay - more on that below.
I had hoped to spend an ordinary and peaceful week, following the excitement this past week-end. And indeed, the week seemed to begin that way.
Monday brought the usual first-of-the-month accounts to settle as well as Regulus' departure to London. Nothing too surprising there. And Tuesday started off quiet enough. Had luncheon with Ari and Narcissa following her St Mungo's committee. Afterward she went to check on Regulus to determine to her satisfaction whether he had been comfortably ensconced at Barty's.
Speaking of Crouch, I was finally able tocorner engage Crouch, Sr in discussion of his foster-daughter. Pointed out how essential it is that the programme's alumni be given the opportunity to prove themselves in the workplace. Also noted that the cost of failure extends beyond her prospects, including as it would a toll proportionate to our ... disappointment. Expect that she should be able to procure a more enthusiastic recommendation from him within the week.
Tuesday evening I had hoped to spend catching up on reading (the essay, among other items that have been awaiting my attention), but shortly after sunset, we heard the fireworks from the Stroud camps, followed shortly by an owl from the camp administrator requesting assistance. About half an hour after I returned from that ruckus, received a Floo call from the Minister's office, imploring me to come down to London.
She had called in half the Ministry, it seems, plus several others of us, in anticipation of outbreaks throughout the country. All her careful attempt to keep the camps under control apparently resulted in a few malcontents choosing to test our sincerity.
The majority of the evening merely was spent overseeing the deployment of Aurors in known hotbed areas and remaining on-hand to go personally to districts and parishes where the celebrations grew unacceptably raucous. I daresay, it's a job the council could have done from our homes, were it not that by coming in to the central location, we became a captive audience for the Minister's alarmist litany and constant ploys for reassurance.
As it grew closer to midnight, her agitation proved sadly well-placed. Several camps broke out effigies and set off fireworks; we heard report of an attempted arson of a Mudblood camp administrator's home near Sheffield; and at least one London neighbourhood hosted a party at which a number of young wizards became wildly intoxicated and blew up a block of tenements. Unoccupied, but nevertheless there was some amount of damage to nearby grounds, and two of the wizards themselves failed to Apparate before the walls collapsed.
To-day, of course, the Ministry have the job of cleaning up the damage. The two wizards aforementioned remain in St Mungo's in satisfactory condition and have been charged with disturbing the peace.
Expect more demonstrations at the camps this evening, along with more of Dolores' apprehension. At least the long day spent at the Ministry has featured the occasional opportunity to exchange witticism with Miss Robins. Far from disrespectful, she nevertheless possesses quite a sense of timing for her dry remarks. She had some particularly amusing observations about the Black pronouncement and its indications of his mental imbalance.
Unfortunately, the fact that he is clearly insane has had no effect on the whispers we have been hearing coming from the camps. It is a sad commentary when any raving such as his, so patently full of slander, becomes a locus for anyone who believes himself slighted. Doubtless that is part of his plan to incite unrest and disrupt the peace in the most invasive way possible.
It's unknown yet whether I shall be closer to St James' or the Manor by the end of the night.
All of which is to say that my reading must wait for another evening. I hope I shall have had the time at least before Saturday when we are back to Hogwarts for the Quidditch match.
I had hoped to spend an ordinary and peaceful week, following the excitement this past week-end. And indeed, the week seemed to begin that way.
Monday brought the usual first-of-the-month accounts to settle as well as Regulus' departure to London. Nothing too surprising there. And Tuesday started off quiet enough. Had luncheon with Ari and Narcissa following her St Mungo's committee. Afterward she went to check on Regulus to determine to her satisfaction whether he had been comfortably ensconced at Barty's.
Speaking of Crouch, I was finally able to
Tuesday evening I had hoped to spend catching up on reading (the essay, among other items that have been awaiting my attention), but shortly after sunset, we heard the fireworks from the Stroud camps, followed shortly by an owl from the camp administrator requesting assistance. About half an hour after I returned from that ruckus, received a Floo call from the Minister's office, imploring me to come down to London.
She had called in half the Ministry, it seems, plus several others of us, in anticipation of outbreaks throughout the country. All her careful attempt to keep the camps under control apparently resulted in a few malcontents choosing to test our sincerity.
The majority of the evening merely was spent overseeing the deployment of Aurors in known hotbed areas and remaining on-hand to go personally to districts and parishes where the celebrations grew unacceptably raucous. I daresay, it's a job the council could have done from our homes, were it not that by coming in to the central location, we became a captive audience for the Minister's alarmist litany and constant ploys for reassurance.
As it grew closer to midnight, her agitation proved sadly well-placed. Several camps broke out effigies and set off fireworks; we heard report of an attempted arson of a Mudblood camp administrator's home near Sheffield; and at least one London neighbourhood hosted a party at which a number of young wizards became wildly intoxicated and blew up a block of tenements. Unoccupied, but nevertheless there was some amount of damage to nearby grounds, and two of the wizards themselves failed to Apparate before the walls collapsed.
To-day, of course, the Ministry have the job of cleaning up the damage. The two wizards aforementioned remain in St Mungo's in satisfactory condition and have been charged with disturbing the peace.
Expect more demonstrations at the camps this evening, along with more of Dolores' apprehension. At least the long day spent at the Ministry has featured the occasional opportunity to exchange witticism with Miss Robins. Far from disrespectful, she nevertheless possesses quite a sense of timing for her dry remarks. She had some particularly amusing observations about the Black pronouncement and its indications of his mental imbalance.
Unfortunately, the fact that he is clearly insane has had no effect on the whispers we have been hearing coming from the camps. It is a sad commentary when any raving such as his, so patently full of slander, becomes a locus for anyone who believes himself slighted. Doubtless that is part of his plan to incite unrest and disrupt the peace in the most invasive way possible.
It's unknown yet whether I shall be closer to St James' or the Manor by the end of the night.
All of which is to say that my reading must wait for another evening. I hope I shall have had the time at least before Saturday when we are back to Hogwarts for the Quidditch match.