a little boring, not gonna lie
The crew finds Ron at his workstation. “How would I describe the Minister?” He’s quiet for a long moment.
“Slytherin. A Slytherin for sure.”
Hermione frowns, “I thought I told you all not to speak to Harry?” She sighs and puts her head in her hands; her office is filled with blue parchment birds jumping around for her attention.
“Harry wasn’t fully on board with the documentary when I brought it up. He thinks the Minister is evil or something, and that’s just silly. We’ve been trying to get him off the idea for ages now, but once Harry has latched on to something, he’s impossible to shake.”
A troubled look crosses her face as she seemingly tries to memorise the wood grain of her desk. “I’m not saying Harry didn’t also have valid concerns—he takes his job very seriously. I’m sure you were all vetted thoroughly before being allowed into the ministry—“
The crew collectively shudders at that memory.
“—and that’s because, after he realised it was happening no matter what- his first concern was keeping the ministry safe and secure.” Hermione smiles gently, “That’s our Harry for you, always doing what’s right for the safety of others.”
She suddenly lifts her head, a bird is balancing precariously atop it, and squints her eyes. She stares each crew member down one by one, “Why are you all asking questions about Harry and the Minister anyway? This is meant to be a documentary about life inside the ministry! Go talk to some of our other ministerial departments!”
On Level Seven, Ginny Weasley is sitting in an office of a ministry department that is very clearly vastly different from the two others the crew has seen thus far.
The Department of Magical Games and Sports looks more like a battlefield than a sports field. Broomsticks are strewn about everywhere, gobstones pepper the floors, snitches and quaffles and bludgers are fighting for dominance in the air above them—there have been a few close calls already. The crew has borrowed some quidditch gear for safety.
“Life in the ministry? Hmm,” Ginny hums as she carelessly leans back and out of the way of an incoming bludger like it’s no big deal. “It’s a little boring, not gonna lie. I often consider ditching my position and running off to play with the Harpies or something.”
A camera briefly turns to the many posters around Ginny’s office of the women’s only quidditch team: the Holyhead Harpies.
“Don’t get me wrong. The Department of Magical Games and Sports is a blast; we very much operate on ‘organised chaos’, which keeps things interesting.” She scoots her chair closer to the desk to avoid a sharp-flying Nimbus.
The crew watches in horror as it just misses her and impacts the wall with enough force to pierce through the stone. It attempts to struggle free to no avail.
“But outside of here? The only thing that’s actually exciting is all the drama with Harry and the Minister,” Ginny grins.
Someone at the back of the crew sighs.
Sirius is spotted hiding in the Portkey Office. His Auror uniform looks a little worse for wear, and, frankly, so does he.
He looks down at himself and back up towards the camera. “You should see the other guy,” Sirius says with a confident smile.
-
A camera cuts to Pansy back at her desk. The shiny placard that reads ’Secretary to the Head Auror’ gleams as she appears perfectly put together, not a hair out of place.
“Are you just going to follow me around all day?” She asks, and the camera jostles as though the person operating it is shrugging.
-
“Okay,” Sirius sighs, “maybe that didn’t go well. But! Parkinson has to get lunch or run an errand eventually. And when she does….”
His face again takes on that mischievous plotting look, “The room will be ours.”
A hesitant crew member asks, “What…what exactly is the room, Mr Black?”
Sirius picks up a random portkey and tosses it back and forth. “It’s Harry’s second office, very off the books. Hush-hush, you know?”
“That sounds like we maybe shouldn’t go in it,” someone whispers.
“Yeah,” Sirius agrees readily. “But where’s the fun in that?”
The crew suddenly realises that including Sirius Black in the documentary might have been a mistake. Percy Weasley’s advice may come back to haunt them.
“Besides,” he continues, “You all want to know why Harry hates the Minister, right?” Again the crew diplomatically refrains from answering. “Well, that room has got-“ Sirius is suddenly cut off as the portkey he is throwing activates unexpectedly, taking him to an unknown location. His wand clatters to the floor and rolls under some shelves.
A portkey clerk enters the room mere moments after. They look down at their watch and sigh, “Man. I just missed my ride to the International Magical Transportation Summit. Guess I’ll have to floo instead.” The clerk looks surprised at the crew still here, “Oh, are you all going as well?”
No one has the heart to tell the clerk no, so the crew follows them out and waves them off as they step into the floo.
“Oh, you lot again.” Draco says and looks a little troubled before he answers, “The Minister is a…complex man. Can’t be summed up in a few measly words.”
The Department of International Magical Co-operation is alive with activity as Draco waits for his father outside the Office of Law. He continues, “However, Weasel is right when he says the Minister is a Slytherin. The Minister is, in fact, the quintessential Slytherin. Literally, too, a Slytherin by descent.”
Draco catches a parchment butterfly, magics it open, glances at it briefly, and writes on it carelessly. He shapes it back to its original form and sends it off. “The Minister and Father have been close associates for many years now. And even though this Minister is the youngest to date, seemingly appearing out of nowhere nearly a decade ago, he made quick work of gathering an impressive following.”
He pauses for a moment. “Very quick work…I was much younger, obviously, just barely about to graduate from Hogwarts, but I remember quite well the overall reception of his arrival. It was almost as though—“
“Draco,” Lucius interrupts with a cold voice.
Draco barely flinches and meets his father’s eyes with an impassive mien, “Father. I hope your meeting was well.”
Lucius’ eyes soften imperceptibly; he firmly grips Draco’s shoulder in an awkward pat. “It was,” Lucius glances over at the film crew. “Are you still participating in this…documentary?”
“They can find me later if you need me now, Father.”
“Then they will find you later.”
The crew stands a little put out as the Malfoys walk off without them. Of course, it wouldn’t be their first apparent dismissal, and it probably wouldn’t be their last, but damn.
“Do I think Harry is right about the Minister?” Ginny looks shocked at the question. “Well…honestly…”
She looks left and right, though there is no one here but her and the camera crew, and leans in a little closer to ask, “Does this stay between us?”
The crew looks at her blandly. Three cameras are currently filming her for multiple perspective shots and b-roll footage.
She grimaces, “Okay—dumb question. But you’re only filming this, right? Like no one will see it until it’s released?”
They mutter amongst themselves and conclude that they aren’t really sure. At this rate, the documentary may never release because they’ve gone so far off-topic that it’s almost as though life inside the ministry solely consists of gossip, in-fighting, and attempted sabotage.
“I’ll take it,” Ginny nods. “Yeah. I think Harry’s right,” she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear as she contemplates her words. “You know, the Minister presents as this enigmatic, caring, self-assured type of person. But there’s always been something a little off.”
She walks down the hall slowly, mindful of her speed so the cameras can follow. “Like, I’m not sure if you all remember this, but right around the time the Minister made that huge political appearance, all of the runner-ups and potential opponents that actually stood a chance in the election just - poof - disappeared.”
The crew did not remember this.
“Exactly! It’s so weird to me that some people just- don’t remember? I understand a lot has happened since, and it was all swept under the rug by the then Head Auror, but everyone else decided to just ignore it? We all saw this new, young, probable premier-designate come onto the scene and magically have no proper opposition because they all randomly decided to drop out of the race or literally vanish, and no one thought: ‘huh, you know, the new bloke might have something to do with all of this.’”
She mindlessly sidesteps a gobstone, but a crew member is not as savvy and ends up squirted by putrid-smelling goo. “Does that make the Minister a Dark Lord, though? I’m not sure,” she shrugs. “Could just be your totally average (beep) up politician.”
It has been implied that the Minister for Magic may be unavailable for an interview for the foreseeable future.