Ron blinked as he stepped into a room of mostly familiar faces who nodded and murmured their greetings with a patient sort of energy that suggested they had already been waiting for some time.

He had only ever visited Head's Tower on a handful of occasions and a cursory sweep of the space indicated that its new inhabitant favored organization, practicality, and comfort. In that order.

Unlike the messy, eccentric sprawl of books and baubles he recalled from Dumbledore's tenure, the Head's office at Hogwarts appeared to have been rearranged with meticulous care. There was an elegance and brightness to the entire space that he didn't recall from memory, and as his gaze absorbed the single standing figure, he found himself squaring his shoulders and rising just a little bit taller.

Minerva McGonagall waited expectantly at the center of the room, hands momentarily clasped until she gestured for them to sit and three plush velvet-backed chairs sprang into existence with a fluid ease that caught him off guard. Ron ducked his head at the casual use of wandless magic, cheeks warming slightly as he was reminded just how much he had to learn about who now lead their order.

Avoiding eye contact with the other faces, he followed along dutifully as Gawain led them into the circle with a general salute to the group, waving Harry and Ron to sit at either side. The conversation momentarily paused, Ron mimicked his mentor as he sat, settling on the edge of his seat with elbows on his knees in an informal stance that suggested attentiveness and an open willingness to listen.

"Always cover your uncertainty with projected ease and confidence, Ron. An Auror can never allow his adversary to feel his nerves…"

Another glance around indicated that several hands held empty or half-finished tea-cups, either indicating that the three of them had arrived late or were stepping into a meeting that was already well underway.

What are we walking into?

"Thank you for coming, Gawain," the Headmistress said quietly, drifting closer to gaze down at their mentor with a meaningful gaze. An elegant hand touched the wizard's shoulder and Ron was surprised when their typically jovial professor merely grunted in soft assent before gesturing toward the witch in an apparent invitation to continue what was already started.

Ron strove to keep his face neutral as an intense emerald gaze suddenly caught his own with measured interest, flashing behind silver spectacles before flickering toward Harry, and finally away as the witch turned and addressed the group.

"Very well, it seems we are all met."

The familiar Scottish brogue seemed richer than he recalled and Ron watched as the Headmistress pivoted carefully and sat in a tall mahogany chair that seemed both entirely practical and entirely throne-like.

"You were saying, Balthazar?"

An unfamiliar wizard clad in Ministry robes lifted bushy eyebrows in response. He cleared his throat.

"Forgive me, Headmistress… where was I? Er… yes well, the Greek foreign minister seemed to think that my objections to the timeline were overstated. Despite presenting Tillandsia's thorough assessment which clearly outlined the astronomical costs of re-runing and the number of adaptations throughout Muggle infrastructure that would need to be implemented for their proposal to succeed, we were forced to conclude our last meeting without making any headway. I'm afraid I'm still waiting to hear from Thaddeus Umpleby as to whether or not my evaluation has been taken into consideration moving forward."

Ron noted the way the wizard leaned toward the Headmistress with a deferential sort of attentiveness. Anxious hands twisted a teacup quietly and Ron watched as the Headmistress frowned and adjusted her feet demurely.

"And you feel this attitude comes from the Seat of Hestia herself?"

Ron watched as the wizard named Balthazar blinked in confusion.

"I understood it was the final proposal from the Greek Thamaturge, yes. However far be it from me to understand the intricacies of international tradecraft," he replied, somewhat bitterly. "No matter the paperwork I file and the protests I log, the Office of Operations continues to make foreign trade agreements heedless of whether or not their proposals violate ICW trading laws or whether or not they even have the budgetary support! And then I have to deal with the fallout!"

The wizard huffed and received a smattering of winces and understanding smiles.

"I appreciate the challenges that your position presents," the Headmistress replied smoothly, inclining her head. "Thank you for your perspective and for taking time to meet with us today."

Her response seemed to appease the wizard and Ron watched as the man stood in response, clearly responding to the implied dismissal.

"'Course, Headmistress," The wizard's jowls bobbed as he gave the witch an odd sort of bow, eyes flickering to several other seats in their group. "I am happy to serve."

There were a few goodbyes and murmurs as the wizard took his leave, and Ron buried the impulse to look toward Harry in reassurance.

Gawain had "borrowed" them from the Academy library during their afternoon study hour and, unlike other excursions into the field, this one had come with zero advance explanation. It wasn't until they had arrived to Hogwarts that Ron had realized they were quietly being brought into the new Order's fold.

While that in itself bore a good amount of excitement, Ron had attempted to rein in his expectations; both he and Harry were struggling to make sense of the new Order's arrangement and it seemed clear that their learning curve was going to be nothing if not steep and humbling.

Ron started as a cup of tea popped into existence off his left elbow. He snatched it out of the air hurriedly without thinking, rattling the saucer even as Gawain shot him a look.

Slurping only somewhat guiltily, Ron tried to refocus and draw upon all of the tools he had been drilling in his one-on-one shadowing sessions with Wick and Gawain. Taking a moment to settle back with a casual ease that was well-practiced, he finally allowed himself the opportunity to look around the small group in earnest.

Everyone's focus was attending to Filius Flitwick who was explaining something newsworthy that he didn't quite grasp. Ignoring the conversation for the moment, Ron took stock of the different faces.

Who are our players?

The Headmistress sat between Flitwick and Pomona Sprout, the latter whispering quietly to Hestia Jones as the younger witch frowned lightly in concentration. While Ron didn't know Hestia very well, the former Auror had been a frequent visitor to Grimmauld Place during the height of the War. He knew that the witch had a mouth like a sailor and was possessed of an easy bell-like laugh that was often infectious, and he had also understood from Ginny that Hestia had become a notoriously well-liked professor at Hogwarts since joining the faculty.

To Flitwick's left sat another wizard that Ron didn't recognize, though the Ministry sigil at the collar indicated that the man belonged to the Directorate of Sorcery, which made sense given the present discussion of foreign trade. The Directorate had always maintained a measured interest in Academy graduates and Ron knew that they were already looking to recruit at least two members of his own class. Managing the Ministry's array of spell collections and magical resources and technologies was not a profession that he fancied, however the Directorate was a powerful force within the Ministry's ranks and responsible for keeping tabs upon on foreign investments.

The few remaining seats were occupied by two of his Academy professors - Wickleffe Temple and Benedict Jones who sat across from his niece, Hestia, wearing a familiar scowl that Ron recognized from lectures. Narcissa Malfoy sat quietly, appearing only slightly less unapproachable than usual for her choice of dark garnet robes which seemed rather curious.

And finally, Ron's gaze took in the tired visage his own father, who still appeared worn and sleep-deprived in the wake of Sturgis Podmore's death… and he found himself rerouting the familiar coil of judgment and shame as his eyes noted the frayed hem of his father's work robes.

He took a thoughtful sip of tea.

Interesting cohort…

Unfortunately, Ron still had no idea what they were there to discuss, and Gawain's final no-nonsense order still rankled as it echoed through his thoughts.

"You are to be seen, but not heard. Watch and listen, but keep your thoughts and words to yourselves. Neither of you are to have input in the meeting we are about to attend."

The final instructions had been issued in a tone that brokered no protest and Ron had attempted to swallow them gracefully. Now, though… with talk of foreign trade and international allies, he buried his frustration and tried to channel it into something productive.

Gawain would never have given the order if we weren't to take some sort of lesson…

There, that seemed reasonable.

And anyway, we knew that joining the Order as adults would mean having to learn the ropes…

Both he and Harry had already argued over that point for a long time.

Only now, with McGonagall's new charge to the Order, were they beginning to understand the magnitude of the legacy that they were inheriting. There were still so many names and faces behind the organization that had once seemed as small as the kitchen table at Grimmauld Place, and they were still learning about the Order's past alliances and history that now seemed to stretch well beyond the boundaries of Great Britain.

Even Gawain and Wickleffe, who existed as two of their closest mentors at the Auror Academy had been tight-lipped about their past Order dealings and both he and Harry had been shocked to learn that they had even been involved at all.

The more they did learn, the more it seemed clear that Dumbledore had run the secret organization with an iron fist, and while their new leader seemed to value transparency in a way that was refreshing, it was also humbling and destabilizing to admit that they didn't know nearly as much about the Order of the Phoenix as they had previously thought.

Ron chanced a look toward the Headmistress who was attending to the conversation quietly.

Emerald eyes were flickering between individuals carefully and Ron was curious to note how fully the witch seemed to be listening to everyone's words. While he recalled the Headmistress' uncanny ability to spot mischief from school, he felt a jolt at realizing he couldn't remember a single instance of speaking with the witch one-on-one.

Something about witnessing her in a smaller group also seemed different.

His cursory observation seemed to indicate that the witch was entirely focused on the conversation at hand, her posture and features relaxed as she absorbed varied opinions with what appeared to be neutral curiosity…

An undervalued ability, Ron thought absently. So many leaders strove to multitask at the risk of making judgments and hasty actions without careful consideration. Even Gawain, who currently served as Head of the Auror Academy, couldn't profess to have all his cauldrons in a row. The man was constantly striding through the Academy halls with no less than five or six paper airplanes whizzing along behind him.

It was a running Academy joke that one only needed to simply summon the paper airplanes and everyone would instantly earn a free pass from lecture. (To which Gawain would always offer a good-natured duel in response.)

Smiling softly at the inner joke, Ron abruptly felt himself stiffen as the Headmistress sent him a careful look, one sculpted eyebrow arching in apparent question… and he realized that his covert observations hadn't been quite as secret as he thought.

Blimey…!

Cheeks flushing, Ron found himself gulping his tea rather inelegantly as he tried to refocus on the actual conversation at hand.

"- the MACUSA's iron fist upon the foreign press."

"Hardly shocking."

Filius Flitwick was in the midst of waving a small hand, his features drawn into a mask of derision. It appeared to be a semi-heated debate between his former Charms professor, the unfamiliar wizard from the Ministry Directorate, and his Academy professors who were still grumbling across him quietly.

"The United States' foreign policy is not about to make headway anytime soon, and despite Quahog sitting in the wings providing the singular voice of reason, current events have precipitated a wave of fear that is nearly as bad as the events of the twenties… there's no reason for us to expend energy there when there's little evidence to suggest reciprocal support!"

"Very true, very true," Benedict Jones began, one wizened hand rising to rub at his brow thoughtfully. "There are rumors that the MACUSA is considering martial law until the protests die down, and I for one would be hard pressed to give an aye when they did little-"

The Headmistress held up a hand and Ron felt a pleasant shiver of surprise as his usually verbose Professor of Comparative Strategy fell silent obediently, frowning darkly beneath bushy eyebrows.

"While the state of affairs with the MACUSA does bear dialogue in the upcoming months, let us attend to matters concerning our own Ministry. Concerning the evidence of today, what say you all?"

There were a few uncomfortable shifts as everyone mulled over the Headmistress' question. Ron waited, feeling his mind reel with the information he had absorbed but was still unable to interpret. A number of questions sprang to mind, and he allowed them to die before reaching his lips.

Gawain's final words of instruction rang through his thoughts again.

"Well, it seems Egypt has made our decision for us..."

Burying the instinctual rush of affection, Ron turned to his left as his other mentor, Wickleffe Temple, opened his palms thoughtfully. Younger, and a bit more personable than Gawain, Wick constantly reminded Ron of his elder brother, Charlie.

"I mean, the investment opportunity seems clear, doesn't it?" The man's eyebrows rose in good-natured disbelief. "Are we really going to turn down fifty Time-Turners? Surely, the Directorate of Sorcery can find a way to code our offer to make it nearly impossible for the Egyptians to employ reverse-engineering on our spellwork?"

There were a number of assenting murmurs including an affirmative from the Ministry wizard as Ron fought to conceal his shock.

Time Turners! What?

"Yes, but think of the investments we could make if we signed an agreement with Greece," his father interjected quietly. "The Greek Hegemon offers a long-term investment that would increase our trade options throughout Eastern Europe, and, it's clear that Trans-Apparative gateways are the new wave of global travel."

"They're certainly efficient in monitoring commerce through Aetherion," Flitwick remarked thoughtfully, glancing toward the Headmistress expectantly.

Several sets of eyes turned toward the witch, whose features remained carefully neutral. A sculpted brow lifted after a long moment and Ron watched graceful fingers steeple themselves elegantly.

"What is the pulse of the inner company?" the Headmistress asked quietly.

Surprised at the insider question regarding the Ministry, Ron found his gaze pinballing between his father and a few other Ministry faces in their circle.

His father's lips twisted.

"Can't you just ask Kingsley?"

The question came from Pomona Sprout and Ron buried an irritated twist of his own lips by taking a deliberate sip of tea.

While he didn't understand the full context of the conversation, he understood enough to glean that they were discussing Order business of a larger scale than he had ever before witnessed. Even he recognized that the witch's query was infantile at best.

Seriously? Doesn't Sprout understand how this works?

To her credit, the Headmistress merely responded with a thoughtful tilt of her head.

"I wish to ascertain the pulse of our potential foreign investments before bothering the Minister with any unnecessary additions to his agenda."

The Ministry wizard cleared his throat.

"My intuition points to a trade agreement Greece. As Arthur already indicated, Trans-Apparative Gateways are finding momentum across both Eastern Europe and Asia," he said. "Even the MACUSA has indicated their interest in a gateway linking Tokyo to Los Angeles."

"And what of Tillandsia? Does she have a platform for her assessments beyond the initial survey handled last summer?"

Emerald eyes narrowed.

"Ah. Tillandsia… she's, er… disappeared," the wizard replied, flushing slightly before clearing his throat. Ron caught Gawain covering a smile beneath a careful hand.

Interesting.

"Rumor has it she's operating on the authority of The Guild," Gawain offered, leaning back in his chair with a casual ease that suggested to Ron that his mentor was likely offering a partial-truth. He felt his own ears perk up at that and he was hard-pressed not to exchange a look with Harry, whom he also felt shift forward with interest.

The Architecture Guild was an enigma that they had both agreed deserved further consideration after hearing Hermione's unique insight, however as their friend had already indicated - cursory investigations had been met with a whole lot of nothing.

"They released a statement to the foreign press after the attacks, however they've offered little beyond the first denouncement. Internal whispers in the Aurory think that too much pressure from the ICW has sent a number of them underground… and well…" Gawain rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he trailed off and the Headmistress frowned.

"I see."

I don't.

By the look on the Ministry's wizard's face it was clear he didn't either, but it didn't seem like the Headmistress or his mentor were about to elaborate. They exchanged a long shared look and Ron had to tamp down a wave of resentment at being left out.

Remember your questions and hold them until after.

The witch waved a graceful hand.

"Thank you for your time, Scottie," McGonagall replied, her features assembling into a warm yet distant smile that seemed unfamiliar upon features Ron had thought he knew rather well. "If you have further insight, please send word through the usual system."

"Of course, Headmistress," the wizard rose only somewhat awkwardly, looking slightly surprised at the quick dismissal. He fluffed his robes and looked around the group with a slightly flustered air.

"Professors. Aurors," the wizard turned and gave a small bow toward Narcissa Black who responded with a curt nod. "Mistress Black."

"Mister Scorcho."

Rather than watch the wizard leave, Ron found his attention upon the Headmistress who suddenly seemed far more interesting an individual than his years at Hogwarts had prepared him for. The way she wielded power seemed slightly vague in his eyes, however from the course of the meeting it seemed clear that Headmistress McGonagall demanded respect in a manner that suggested it had been hard-earned.

The witch was also quite hard to read, he was realizing… and something about the way she held herself seemed familiar and unnerving, though Ron couldn't quite put a finger…

The office door snicked shut and emerald eyes narrowed and flashed.

"Options."

The Scottish tones were clipped and Ron felt himself sit up straighter in response as the Headmistress' demand fell upon the group.

"We need to contact Tillandsia," Gawain put forth immediately.

"I'll leave that to you," the witch replied smoothly, looking over her spectacles for a long moment. Again, Ron had the distinct feeling that the two of them were privy to another level of conversation that wasn't being stated aloud.

Gawain made a noise through his teeth and then nodded once.

Ron couldn't quite understand the Headmistress' body language nor Gawain's, however they seemed to be speaking around some sort of shared understanding about the Architect that both Ministry wizards had already alluded to. Whomever this Tillandsia was, Ron thought that she must have been a rather controversial witch.

Again, Ron stifled the urge to look toward Harry.

"I have one or two contacts left in the company. I will reach out to see of DoM is peddling anything under the table in regards to either trade proposal."

Ron couldn't help the expression of surprise as Pomona Sprout's pronouncement was met with appreciative nods all around.

Department of Mysteries? Sprout?!

"Any insight into the nature of the Greek proposal seems to be of greatest priority," the Headmistress replied, conjuring a parchment and scroll with a subtle twist of one hand. "I daresay thirty Time-Turners is the least of our worries."

"You believe there's more to that offer that meets the eye?" asked Wickleffe.

The Headmistress tilted her head thoughtfully and passed the feather of her quill across one cheek.

"It is my intuition that the Greeks would never give away such a substantial sum of magical technology without placing further stipulations regarding their usage in place. As a nation paving the majority advancements in the realm of Time Magic for the rest of us, they have reason to keep their monopoly as it is."

"I was under the impression that the trade would be more than well-matched in the Trans-Apparative investments?" Hestia Jones asked in half-question, brown eyes wide in bewilderment. "The Hegemon has been pressuring us to add Athens to the Western European Portkey and Floo Authority for decades. Thirty time-turners in exchange for an open line of transportation and commerce to their capital seems a fair match, does it not?"

Flitwick frowned and shook his head.

"What both Scottie and Balthazar failed to mention is that without Tillandsia in the picture providing the voice of the Guild, the Ministry holds little ability to act upon their proposals," he offered, glancing toward the Headmistress.

"Is the Guild truly that influential?" Hestia asked incredulously, looking around the group in surprise. Ron looked around and noted a number of uncomfortable shifts within the Hogwarts professors, however it was Narcissa Malfoy who answered smoothly.

"Though their numbers are few, the Guild exercises its own authority as much as any recognized Society," she replied softly. "The rules of the Guild circumvent most, if not all, international policy - particularly when their expertise is required for projects of this magnitude. Only the Guild could provide the necessary support to conceal a project of this scale from Muggle view."

Why have I never heard about the Guild's significance before?

"Well fuck…" Hestia breathed, blinking large brown eyes in consternation as Professor Sprout tsked under her breath.

"Then you see the challenges our Ministry faces," the Headmistress murmured softly. "If this is the one offer they're considering in earnest, we must consider the weight of the internal and external ramifications of such a partnership and whom else may be interested in these proceedings."

Ron's mind was reeling and he desperately wanted to ask several questions.

"Quite right," chimed in Professor Jones with his familiar bluster. "The Greeks have been pushing their interests upon us for the last five years. Hitting us while we're down, wouldn't you say? With their capitalist Thamaturge holding the reins, how are we to create a proper counter offer within our capabilities, let alone interests?"

The Headmistress frowned and peered over her spectacles and Ron felt a peculiar swooping sensation in his stomach. It was a Professor McGonagall look… and for the first time since they had arrived to the meeting, Ron intuitively understood what was about to come next.

"You misunderstand me," came the direct reply a moment later. "My concern is for the visibility of our trade proposals and those who would seek to undermine them."

Professor Jones sat forward and glared.

"Then you find no fault in that witch's underhanded methods? I s'pose you don't recall how Greece neglected to answer our call for aid two years ago?" Jones huffed derisively, "You academics are so quick to jump into the Greek pocket… the birthplace of civilization and all that. If your Societal history didn't trace back to Athens, would you be such a staunch supporter of their proposal now?"

A sculpted eyebrow rose in response and Ron waited, watching as the Headmistress grew very still.

"Do not mistake my words for self-serving obsequiousness, Benedict," she replied icily. "And do not forget that it was Greece who came to our aid first during Voldemort's first incursion. Where was Germany? France? Belgium? Spain? How many months did it take for our allies to respond to our call?"

Green eyes flashed and Ron swallowed a gulp.

"Greece rendered aid, supplies, potions, and wands… and while you may have forgotten that said allegiance cost them over thirty of those wands and the lives of twelve school children at the Battle of Corfu, I can assure you the Greeks have not. I would implore you to reconsider your impressions of history, and I encourage you to tread lightly when speaking of matters beyond your allegiance. Speak of this again and we shall have a true disagreement upon our hands."

Professor Jones merely glowered as McGonagall pinned him with a look that could have withered the brightest of Flutterby blossoms. Ron willed himself not to shrink back out of habit, though hearing the tinge of Societal threat was almost more uncomfortable than the rest of the disagreement.

Good Godric, she's really not playing games!

"Now..."

A long hand smoothed out silken robes as the witch took a steadying moment before speaking. The rest of the group remained politely interested in their tea, though Ron immediately noticed several wands lying across laps that had not been present before.

Helga's humping hippogriffs…

He really wished Hermione were present.

McGonagall lifted her chin and it was as if someone had cast Nox upon her expression, which softened immediately and grew contemplative.

"Our shared history with Greece is not the topic of conversation at hand, and I invite us to return to the root of our challenge."

The Headmistress cast a careful eye over her parchment and Ron tamped down his incredulity as his cantankerous Academy professor slumped back, clearly cowed enough to listen to the rest of McGonagall's argument, though his dark expression did not clear.

"The challenges of this particular trade lie within the internal workings of the Greek Hegemon, or Hellenic Council as it's referred to in country," the Headmistress began, lifting her gaze to meet Professor Jones'. "I will agree with you, Benedict, in saying that Thamaturge Megalos' significant economic investments abroad do not always endear her to her countrymen and do present a certain challenge in ascertaining her true motives… however her political platforms are of little interest to me at the moment. In addition to being the executive voice of the Greek Hegemon, Thamathurge Megalos also holds the Seat of Hestia… one of the twelve elected officials whose office accounts for all decisions pertaining to foreign trade and relations."

The Headmistress removed her glasses as Ron made several more mental notes to follow up with Hermione.

Hestia? Thamathurge? Hegemon?

The intricacies of Greek government were lost upon him, though from a few other faces in their circle, it seemed a few others weren't as well versed in foreign politics either.

"All matters of trade must pass through the Seat of Hestia's offices and be approved by a minimum of two other members of the Hegemon before moving to vote by the Greek legislative assembly - the Sophistrium. Thamaturge Megalos is not the executor of this proposal and it would be within our interests to discover where this trade agreement originated, which council members supported it, and who stands to benefit from such an arrangement before engaging in further maneuvers."

Professor Jones' eyebrows rose and he snorted.

"Not to mention the Guild's role within this proposal."

The Headmistress sniffed.

"Indeed."

There were a smattering of murmurs before McGonagall gestured to her left.

"This is where we shall depend upon Pomona's expertise," the Headmistress nodded toward Sprout who gave a thin smile of acknowledgment in response.

"We must first ascertain the breakdown of the Greek Hegemon regarding this particular proposal. It strikes me as odd, as I know it does Filius and you, Arthur… that a matter of this magnitude should not have received greater attention from either the foreign or domestic press," she continued, receiving nods of agreement.

"Unless there's more to the deal than is being communicated to the general public," Hestia put in, her brows furrowed in concentration.

"Exactly."

Ron mulled over the conversation and found himself at more than one loss.

But Sprout's expertise is going to help us out? Really…?

Even if the witch was somehow formerly affiliated with the mysterious Department of Mysteries, he had a hard time believing the dumpy Herbology professor would have much of a pulse of contemporary Ministry workings and international politics.

"And the Egyptian proposal?" Wickleffe asked, features openly confused.

At least I'm not alone.

"Shouldn't we be vetting the internal circumstances behind that one as well? Even if it doesn't hold priority?"

Ron almost missed the Headmistress' subtle glance in Narcissa Malfoy's direction, and had the other witch not stilled, he might have missed the connection.

"Our sources indicate that there is an equally troubling set of stipulations on their generosity as well, namely with regard to the integrity of the proposed products," McGonagall replied evenly. "At the moment, however… I believe our priority should remain with Greece."

Ron filed away the witch's response for later consideration.

"Speaking of the Greeks, didn't you have an apprenti-"

"Concerning our earlier discussion, do we believe the Order's presence could provide the needed collateral?"

Ron willed his features to remain neutral as the Headmistress neatly avoided Professor Jones' rather rude and invasive question, though there wasn't time to consider the evasion in earnest.

Collateral what?

Flitwick made a tsking noise under his breath and Gawain exchanged a significant look with Wick that he couldn't quite interpret. Hestia and Sprout fell silent and Ron gathered that McGonagall's question had been directed to those whose wands were needed.

A moment later, Ron watched with a sinking feeling as his own father removed his hat tiredly.

It was a gesture he had seen his father perform a hundred times in his own kitchen every time one of his own children presented him with a request he was reluctant to grant.

"Dicey matter, there," came the response a moment later.

Feeling a strange mixture of pride and trepidation, Ron waited as the entirety of their small group shifted to give his father the floor.

"The fact of the matter is that our Ministry has lost a great deal of influence throughout Western Europe in the wake of the Second War and we are desperate to regain our international standing," he sighed. "Before Voldemort's return, Time Magic had been well-researched and stockpiled in the Department of Mysteries for close to five centuries… however, to put it simply we have now been left with a blank slate. The first wave of reports from the Unspeakables have indicated that there's less than a five percent chance of being able to salvage our Time-Turner supply in the coming year, let alone the coming decade, however they remain hopeful that even a handful of new Turners would be enough to piece together their research and regain a bit of footing with our international trading partners."

"True, but it's no secret that Voldemort targeted the Chronicians," huffed Professor Jones as he eyed the group knowingly. "How many are even left to continue the research? And what is the nature of their research? The Time Turners were one matter, but the lack of direction in that department leaves a lot to be desired."

There were a smattering of somber nods.

"Then you understand our predicament and why we need one of these proposals to succeed."

Ron grew very still and despite everyone's thoughtful focus remaining upon his father, he also knew that Harry was undoubtedly feeling the same flood of shame and guilt as he was.

The Time Turners were our fault…

Weren't they?

Ron shook himself free from the useless thoughts and realized that Pomona Sprout had spoken.

"- lean toward an offer?"

His father grimaced.

"Of course Greece and China have the monopoly on Time Magic, however, as I said before the difference in Eastern and Western conceptions of time and technology make Greece the more palatable partner for our own research."

"And Egypt?"

Another grimace.

"Tough to say. Again, we're speaking out of my realm of expertise… but I gathered that the modifications would be intensive. Anyone have further insight?"

The Headmistress sighed softly and shifted, features growing pensive as she steepled long fingers. Ron had the distinct impression that the witch knew far more about everything that was being discussed than she was communicating.

Perhaps she's more like Dumbledore after all...

To his surprise, it was Narcissa Black who leaned forward to respond.

"In regards to Time, one can conceive of magical instruments as merely surface level tools with which we may engage in powerful communion with one of the least understood forms of magic that threads through our world," she answered, typically haughty features far more relaxed and pensive than he had ever seen.

"Time is immaterial and dangerous. It is reckless to meddle with such powers, however as most know, time loops remain one of the greatest commodities we have learned to cultivate in the past several decades. However, establishing a secure pocket is literally a time-consuming enterprise and nigh impossible now that we have lost such a substantial quantity of instruments that are utilized to find a stable nexus and entrance point. To teach our Chronicians a new system of approaching an already difficult craft would be… unwise."

The group fell silent as they listened. There were a number of thoughtful nods, though Ron noted how most of the Hogwarts professors appeared unsurprised by Narcissa's summary. Not for the first time, he found himself wondering after their shared credentials… and his thoughts briefly flitted toward memories of their conversation with Hermione.

Do all Hogwarts professors hold a Mastery?

Somehow the brief thought made him uneasy. Societal rules made such an arrangement seem… inadvisable.

"Do we know how many loops were lost?" Professor Sprout asked solemnly.

Narcissa's gaze slid across the group expectantly.

"No. That information remains within Kingsley's circle," his father replied quietly. "However given the lack of attention this matter has received in other departments, I gather the Chronicians are either continuing their investigation on their own or that far more of them were lost than has been released to the rest us."

Ron's mind was reeling and he felt overwhelmed to say the least.

Finally chancing a look at Harry, he saw that his friend's face was an open mask of confusion, while Gawain appeared to be digesting the conversation with an almost angry look upon his face.

"So… let me get this straight."

Hestia Jones leaned forward, resting one elbow against her armrest as the other hand came up to pinch the bridge of her nose.

"Egypt wants to secure their European investments by providing us with a substantial quantity of Time Turners that are incompatible with our past research materials and too limited to be actually useful... while Greece offers a reasonable quantity of Time Turners in exchange for a massive Architectural overhaul of London that we have no actual authority to carry out without assistance from the Guild. And the Guild has still not forgiven the Ministry for past grievances at the end of Grindelwald's War, and anyway we're at a loss for their insight until the ICW retracts its statement condemning their Articles of Coherence. Did I get it all right?"

Ron could feel his eyes growing as large as saucers, but there was nothing to be done about it.

Gawain swore under his breath as Wickleffe wiped a tired hand over his face. Flitwick and his father were nodding, both wearing matching expressions of resignation.

Narcissa Black raised an elegant eyebrow.

"We live in interesting times, indeed," she replied.

"Slytherin's fucking snake," Hestia cursed, earning a snort from her uncle and a solid eye roll from Sprout.

Ron was incapable of preventing his eyebrows from rising any higher as Narcissa Malfoy touched a light hand to the younger witch's forearm and the two shared in a moment of dark disbelieving laughter.

"Then we are all understood?"

Ron's focus zipped back to the Headmistress, whose expression was inscrutable. The last vestiges of sunlight had already faded from the room and the witch's features were thrown into darker relief by the ambient firelight. Ron thought she might've been troubled.

"Quite." Pomona Sprout folded her hands across her ample stomach and huffled softly. She shot a look toward Flitwick who appeared almost angry.

"Aye," answered Gawain, sharing another glance with Wick.

There were a few more nods and acknowledgements from the rest of the group and the Headmistress snapped her fingers, abruptly vanishing her quill and parchment.

"We'll reconvene to discuss the logistics on the 'morrow," she finished.

As McGonagall rose in a fluid movement, Ron was only slightly behind the group as everyone stood in response.

Like rising for a queen...

Emerald eyes were resolute as the Headmistress glanced around the group purposefully, somehow managing to convey determination and confidence. Elegant features tipped into a soft, reassuring smile, and Ron couldn't decide how he felt in response.

"I appreciate your presence today. Look for the usual signs and be safe, all of you."

The smattering of "yes ma'am's" and affirmatives sounded like a chorus of military officers and Ron finally couldn't help himself. Leaning behind Gawain's back, he caught Harry's troubled gaze and he knew his friend shared the single thought that continued to resound through his jumbled and addled brain.

What have we gotten ourselves into?

A/N: To those asking for a timeline of what has transpired thus far... here it is:

May 2nd, 1998 - Battle of Hogwarts
September 1998 - Hermione moves to Naxos to study with Master Kallas; Harry and Ron join the Auror Academy, Minerva becomes Headmistress of Hogwarts

*one year*

Mon. Nov. 15, 1999: 5 violations of ISOS
Wed. Nov. 17: The ICW holds an emergency convocation on Atlantis, Minerva and Dia meet in Anacapri; Minerva comes to Naxos for dinner
Thurs. Nov. 18: Minerva sends out call asking to reconvene the Order
Fri. Nov. 19: Order Meeting is held at the McGonagall Manse
Sun. Nov. 21 - Hermione meets Konstantinos and Melina
Sun. Nov. 28 - Dia leaves for the States/Guatemala; Hermione meets with Harry and Ron in London, Yiayia meets with Minerva
Mon. Nov 29 - Hermione journeys to France with Yiayia; Dia is on assignment in Guatemala; Ron and Harry sit in upon a meeting at Hogwarts
Fri. Dec. 3 - Transfiguration Quorum convenes jointly with the ICW convocation on Atlantis
Tues. Dec. 7 - First official Order meeting is to be held