|It's a bird! It's a plane! No...it's a...fire thingie!
||[Aug. 27th, 2004|10:45 pm]
Hogwarts RPG ~ 1858
((OOC: the following article will supposedly be included in the day's edition of the Daily Prophet. Your characters are sure to be acquainted to it if they read it, so do RP away the reactions? *congenial smile*))
The faint flutter of feathers died out almost as violently as it had come to be. A lively flame of silver, a subtle hoot -- and then Grazzia, the dueling owl made its dutiful appearance, floating delicately (and so fitting to her name) rather than flying altogether.
Of course, any man worth his keep would have recognized the bird's beauty, seen to it with care, assured it would be treated with dignity. That is to say, any man but its officially Merlin-forsaken protector. Rowan Avery had an entirely and far more crucial task for it...
...the finest bird in known existence was delivering the headmaster paper. To those close enough to see it, the main article would have offered quite a sight...
"Ministry officials crawling out of the Chamber of Balance!
Spare a sickle to buy dear Cato a hankie!
In keeping to their word, the Council of Twelve reunited today in an official assembly meant to discuss the Grindelwald crisis. The Lord Minister Cato Blackthorne as well as a select company of three Polish representatives took part at the debates.
Minister Blackthorne had already announced that the session would have to be brief in order to accomodate his Lordship's schedule -- and, oh, was dear Cato robbed his shot at a dramatic exit!
A private squadron, with members later identified as partaining to nobles houses (here unnamed out of courtesy to the imaginably startled families) took the entire quarter by siege and demanded that Ulrich Grindelwald be declared Dictator.
"They had a Muggle wand of sorts with them," says one of our sources, who prefers his nameless sanctuary, "and it worked on sparkles. I think they call it a fire-hand. Or fire-wrist. Well, fire-piece of body. It caused a lot of damage, though, and it took quite a few Aurors to immobilize them - but then the entire room went dark, and the damned fire thing was so incredibly hot..."
At this point, our source could barely breathe and had to be delivered to comfort and receive some form of rest. He managed a few words after the Healers had seen to him. "That thing blew up. Someone claimed it was the overheating to blame, though I can't say how or why. It was horrible, the chairs all went splinters! They started gnashing at us with their teeth - the squibs, not the chairs- and tried to bite us, and we had to take cover beneath the table before the Aurors could come and secure the way. The Lord Minister had to crawl out and he took the Polishmen with him. They truly were in ever the hurry."
This last part was later confirmed by an outsider, a Mrs Agnes Tootingham, 54 of age and in service of one of the (again, unnamed) greater pureblood houses. "I couldn't believe me eyes, I couldn't! The very Minister! And I hadn't a hankie with me, oh poor soul, and neither did he, and he was such a mess, and he had to get clean to go do his job - always loved him, such a hardworking man!- and so I had to raise money from some of my friends in order to get him a hankie, but it doesn't matter, such a good man..."
"This isn't the first of Grindelwald's organized and abusive declarations," reports the same Ministry agent. "As of late, we've had plenty of such assaults, more or less as timely. He's getting anxious, and so he's sending his minions out, but don't worry, all shall be well. Ulrich Grindelwald may do as he pleases. The Lord Minister may have bent the knee physically -- but we're keeping our strength, we are, just- just- just keep the fire-thingie away!"
...and then the same Ministry man passed out.
Gallateus Albridge, Daily Prophet Reporter and Chief Editor"