Chapter 45.5: Machinations

Monday morning in the Ministry of Magic saw the return of hundreds of employees to its gilded atrium. Walking among them unnoticed was a simple feat of casual camouflage. Even her normal wear caused no disturbance here; the leather of her boots was easily mistaken for dragon hide and her overcoat was similar enough to an open-faced over-robe that no one took the time to look too closely. Sure steps in a confident pace assured bystanders she knew where she was going and had the authority to be there, and a hint of proper timing meant the check-in wizard was bent over another visitor's wand when she walked by. Not that he would have bothered her anyway. So many underling department grunts came and went that one woman who seemed to know what she was doing hardly caught a sideways glance.

In a swish of black leather, the woman stepped into the least occupied of the ministry lifts. Standing at the front of the cluster meant she felt more than saw the raised eyebrows when she pressed the golden button for Level One: Minister of Magic and Support Staff. Even that caused her no distress. Of all the infiltration missions she and her team had successfully navigated, this one ranked far down on the challenge scale. Very far down.

One by one the rabble filtered out around her. She stood firm in the center of the lift and let them sidle by. By the time the last low-ranking hit wizard departed at Level Two, he darted past her like an anxious rabbit. A slight smirk tweaked her still mask. She did so enjoy the pervasive aura of unease that the common human flock felt in her presence. Sure it could be masked, dimmed at times, hidden at others, but when she wanted to come across as powerful and imposing? Oh, yes, a taste of it would do just fine.

She'd save the whole unleashed variety for those who were... more than the peasantry.

At Level One the golden gates slid open once more and the lilting voice overhead made to announce her location. With a growl and a twist of long, elegant fingers, the sound wound down before dying out with a grating, metallic creak. Huffing a sigh of frustration, she composed herself, tucking a strand of black hair behind one ear before sweeping out into the opulent hallway.

Unlike the floors below, the main hall of the Minister's lobby was carpeted in pristine gold and bronze patterned wool depicting swirls of sparkling star trails. Her heavy boots left no mark as she passed, yet she smirked again at the imagery. Wizards... such oblivious creatures. Tracing the patterns of mana into the floor upon which they walked, probably not even aware of the significance of their design, trodding daily upon that which deserved their respect and honor. Walls painted a light gold as well, to match the theme she supposed, set a bright and rich atmosphere. About halfway down the hall, two side paths offered a view of various office doorways. She was interested in none of these, only the intricately decorated door at the far end preceded by an open space with several chairs and a receptionist's desk.

The young woman sitting behind the desk was occupied with a long roll of parchment blocked out with dates and times as she approached. As she neared, a dark figure against the bright hall, the woman looked up with a polite, professional smile.

"I'm sorry Madam," she said simpering. Apparently that kind of tone worked on the typical... purebloods... who came up this way. She almost wanted to bare her teeth. The receptionist's smile dropped. "Th-the Minister's not in right now. If you're here for an audience, you'll h-have to come back later."

"I know," she growled. Another flick of her wrist saw the blonde's head twisted away, leaving the younger woman blinking absently at her papers. After a moment of staring and a confused shake of her head, she picked up her quill and ticked off another box. The dark haired intruder continued past unnoticed.

The office interior was decorated to the current minister's taste. Of course with the buffoon that currently held the position, this was excessive. She sneered at the floor to ceiling bookcase with its perfectly alphabetized contents- not a single book had been touched, not a single spine was creased. The comfortable plush armchair between the desk and the floor-to-ceiling enchanted windows certainly had, however. She strode around and settled in against the perfectly stuff cushions, crossing her legs and idly tapping her fingers against one arm.

After a moment of waiting, her focus drifted from the office door to the desk before her. Typical office knick knacks were arranged appropriately for show. A neat inkpot and selection of quills to one side; an ingoing and outgoing file box seemingly for display on the other. A picture of the Minister shaking hands with some international figure in front of a crowd sat where others might have an image of their family. She sneered at it and reached out to send it flying from the desk with a flick of her finger. As the frame shattered against the opposite wall, however, she noticed the one thing that seemed out of place in the entire room.

Raising a brow, the dark haired woman drew the thick parchment file forward and turned to the first entry. Auror documentation lay before her, topped with the image of a small child. The little girl, Ava Fairchild, lay in the bottom of a muggle closet, half covered in strewn hangers. No more than five, maybe six years old, she stared out of the image with a look of fear the woman rarely witnessed on one so small. The photo was still, but not taken with muggle technology. Across the child's forehead glistened the word THIEF, carved into her young flesh not long after her death. The woman traced the word with her finger, lips quirking upward at the irony.

"Something entertaining you, My Lady Cassandra?"

Cassandra Ericson raised piercing eyes to the gentleman across the desk from her. "Well I did have to come up with some way to occupy my time. You're late."

Bartemius Crouch nodded gravely. "I'm afraid that overeager young assistant of the minister's gave me more trouble than he's worth. In order to maintain my cover, I of course had to act the part. I will endeavour to not disappoint you in the future, My Lady."

Cassandra shook her head as she tossed the file back on the desk. "And young Mr. Weasley thinks he's being subtle in his espionage. The boy has no potential." She sighed. "Speaking of your... alter ego, do rid yourself of that atrocious getup, Eris."

Barty Crouch Sr. planted his wooden cane on the ground and bowed his head. A rippling shimmer swept down his figure, turning graying hair to blond, a charcoal pinstripe suit to black satin with a crimson waistcoat, and oaken cane to twisting ebony. When the man lifted his head once more, gone was the stern, yet tired gaze of the weary man. Instead, hollow blue eyes glinted with a distant, steely focus. Though human in design, the figure gave off a feeling of distinct wrongness.

"That's better," Cassandra said, sitting straighter in the minister's chair. "A shame your brother couldn't be here to fill in his side of our information."

Eris merely hummed in agreement with a light nod of his head.

The woman eyed him sternly, then planted her hands against the desk and rose to her feet, holding herself with the same poise and authority that had made the ministry workers give her a wide berth. "Very well, let's get started then. Report, Strife."

"Infiltration of the ministry goes smoothly, My Lady. My cover has taken successfully and I can now provide a line of intelligence directly from the minister's most influential departments. The Aurors of distinct interest remain unfortunately too focused in their dedication to their Head of Department, and only the shallowest of the layers of the Department of Mysteries are penetrable at this time."

One elegant hand brushed that admittance aside. "I'm not too worried about wasting your time there. I've much more direct access of my own."

The suited figure nodded. "As you say, My Lady. Through the ministry's resources I have also been maintaining an awareness of those valuable players who enter and leave the country. It seems as though a great deal of focus is occurring here, and what plays out on the continent has, thus far, been returned eventually to British soil. The young talent that was of interest to you last year have been so far of great use in providing intel from across their various countries. The young French woman, of course, already under your wing, is closest at hand, but those who are farther afield are no less dedicated to our cause. The Dark calls to them, as you said it would."

Cassandra hummed thoughtfully, idly trailing one hand along the edge of the minister's desk, then taking a slow turn about her half of the room. Adrienne Convain had indeed been a great acolyte under her service, and with the daughter's say, convincing the father to coincide with Rixlis' efforts had been a pittance. "Perhaps I should put our young pupil to work in the foreground once more. I admit I have been... distracted, as of late. One of Kemper's prized new playthings shows surprising promise. I've been checking in on Miss Granger rather more frequently than I had originally intended. I believe she could be of great use to us, given proper... motivation. She's a thirst for knowledge and a wounded pride to match."

She paused in her pacing and turned once more to face her companion. "What of Miss Bradt, the German girl? Katrina is on her daughter's tail since the confrontation in Heidelberg and the death of her adopted mother, but lost her shortly before she reportedly evacuated the country. There were... missteps made there, and I'm not pleased to be falling behind."

"Miss Bradt arrived through the international portkey terminal carrying personal belongings and an infant not long ago," Eris informed her with a cold grin, fingers drumming the head of his cane. "As with all else, it seems she sought to return to Britain in her time of need. She will likely seek shelter from the Order of Light, but as slow and burdened as she is, she should not be difficult to target. Their safe houses are not so discreet as they believe."

"Excellent. Have the younger champion, Max Fischer, set to tail her as well. He's not a significant figure in Germany at the moment, and with the Department of Mysteries recent fumble, the Order is too present there for me to take much action anyway. We can pull him away and set him to better use here. Whatever happened between those two, the boy is left with an admirable streak for vengeance."

Eris nodded seriously. "A simple arrangement. We'll have him brought in before the month is out."

Cassandra smirked at him. "In that case then, I believe we each have other matters to attend to, unless you have more to report."

"No, My Lady Cassandra," Eris said. Another shimmer later and the graying form of Bartimous Crouch Sr. saluted her with his staff before turning briskly and setting out from the office.

The dark haired woman waited until she could hear the cross call of "Weasley!" down one of the side hallways before sweeping out of the office. Once more the ditsy secretary paid her no more mind than a fly as she swept past, striding powerfully and silently across the mana-patterned floor.

As she approached, the gates to the lift slid open, and the Minister of Magic himself stepped forth. "Nonsense and bother, that's all it ever is. A hot toddy, that's what I want. Oh! Excuse me, Madame, were you perhaps awaiting an audience?" He balked at her presence, blinking at her absently.

Lady Ericson stepped aside, inclining her head piously. "My business is concluded, Minister. I was just on my way out. Do have a lovely day, I'm sure you deserve it."

He nodded agreeably and meandered off down the hall.

Before the gates closed, he could have sworn the dark woman whispered, "I'd take a second look at that file if I were you." When he turned to look over his shoulder, the lift had already gone.

"Stephanie!" Fudge barked at his receptionist. "Who was that woman?"

The blonde looked up from her filing. "Woman, sir? I'm afraid I haven't seen anyone up this way since you left."