Preparations, Arrival
Uproar didn't even begin to cover it.
The Minister was simultaneously trying to cover his ass in two directions — never a good look on a grown man — while the Ministry was trying to prepare for the visit of the king of a mythical nation and his wizarding husband who just happened to be the missing Boy Who Saved Us and magical Britain as a whole was trying to find out what the hell had happened.
Under all of this, a few people were quietly, well, hiding. Not even hiding so much as cowering.
It was fairly certain that the boy would not remember their faces, but fairly certain was not enough, not when they'd been fairly certain that the steps they'd taken to get rid of him would be sufficient to keep him away for life.
In addition to various flavors of disruption and celebration, money was moving hands here and there within the goblin economy and many of the quieter magical "creatures" were preparing. There were things about Wakanda, if any of the myths were true. There were things to be ready for.
The Minister for Magic had readied a house in the middle of Wizarding London - one seized from a captured Death Eater - for the Wakandan Prince - prince-es - and his - their entourage. Nobody was expecting, however, when the black-and-gold metal - spaceship? - simply landed in the yard of the Burrow.
Well, perhaps Molly and Arthur Weasley, who had gotten a heads-up of sorts - were expecting it. The Burrow had never been cleaner. The Weasley children had never been cleaner. The gnomes had never been cleaner.
"Call the Minister, Bill," Arthur instructed his son. He was not just smiling, he was grinning. "He can come through our Floo to meet the Wakandan delegation. But tell him he needs to wait at least half an hour."
A crowd - stampede - of redheads was already heading for the ship, two brunettes and two blondes among them.
"We've got to do our own greetings first."