prompt for April 21st - Harry Potter/Sneakers
Now that I've had the idea, the prompt is obvious!
Prompt for April 21:
Write about haggling.
The school offers the guys a train ride back into London, but they decide to take the van back down themselves. They'll need it on hand when they go back to Heathrow, they'd rather be able to keep an eye on their equipment as they travel, and Mother - as usual - is paranoid about leaving the transportation up to someone else.
Sometimes, Marty wonders how Mother puts up with any of the other guys driving, even.
They get back to London without major incident, and start packing the next day; they're about halfway through that when an owl shows up at Grimmauld Place. Its message informs them that they will be pleased to discuss recent events with the Interim Minister of Magic. It's pretty much the last thing any of them want to hear, this close to finally going home. Still, the owl's only the messenger, so they make it clear that they'd rather this happen on what's become their turf than in some stranger's office.
The day after that, they're joined by a rather imposing thirty-something man, apparently the Minister in question.
"I have to congratulate you for how you handled Mrs. Black," he says. "That had us puzzled for quite some time."
Marty shrugs. "It's only one of duct tape's many uses. Besides, we had to get her to shut up somehow."
"Very true. I take it everyone's gathered in the kitchen?"
Marty nods, and leads the way downstairs. The conversation goes along pleasantly enough for ten or fifteen minutes, though Marty notices that none of them, including the Minister (last name of Shacklebolt) truly relaxes.
Despite having his guard up, by the time Marty notices Shacklebolt trying to draw his wand unobtrusively, Crease has already coughed meaningfully, and Mother's halfway through saying, "With all due respect, Minister, I hope you're not planning to use that thing on us."
Shacklebolt pauses, then removes his hand from his pocket, looking slightly guilty. "It's standard procedure, I'm afraid. You've done quite a bit for our war, but you are, unfortunately, Muggles."
"Be that as it may, I really don't think wiping our memories is a good way to start your tenure as head of government. For one thing, we'd probably never get out of this house."
"For another," Marty adds, "we don't live under your jurisdiction. A good way to turn your government around would be to have a look at why that particular rule doesn't seem to work."
Carl sits up in his seat. "And for a third thing, I can tell you exactly why you're not going to do it."
That stops everyone else in the room; finally, Shacklebolt raises an eyebrow and says, "Go on, then."
"You're not going to do it because someone in the FBI knows we've been here since late August. She heard about the original offer, and we've used her for some last-minute research more than once while we've been out here. She has hard copies of evidence that we were here, and instructions to go to the appropriate authorities if any of us act like we've been doing anything different in the last nine months."
Marty smiles, impressed. "Very good, Carl."
"And he's right," Crease says, beginning to smile as well. "If word gets out that you double-crossed American citizens in such a way, what little goodwill the Ministry of Magic has in America will disappear."
Shacklebolt considers the matter for a few moments, then sighs. "You would appear to have the checkmate, gentlemen. What is it that you'd like from the Ministry?"
"We want to go home," Mother says. "From there, we'll stay out of your hair if you stay out of ours."
"And the other half of the money your predecessors promised us," Whistler adds.
"Very well. In exchange, might I request your findings from your work in September? There's no sign that the Ministry ever received a full report - which makes sense, given how quickly you turned the tables on them."
"We'll have to write it up," Marty says. "And I don't know how much of it'll help you, unless you want to know just how much those guys had wrong in the public areas."
Shacklebolt chuckles. "Believe me, I already have some idea. But at the very least, it can help us move forward, rather than backward."
The Minister takes his leave not long afterward, wishing them good fortune on their way back to California. A few minutes after that, Carl says, "Okay, really. What is it with government jobs ending in big black guys wanting to buy our silence?"
Marty sighs. "I wish I could tell you."
Prompt for April 21:
Write about haggling.
The school offers the guys a train ride back into London, but they decide to take the van back down themselves. They'll need it on hand when they go back to Heathrow, they'd rather be able to keep an eye on their equipment as they travel, and Mother - as usual - is paranoid about leaving the transportation up to someone else.
Sometimes, Marty wonders how Mother puts up with any of the other guys driving, even.
They get back to London without major incident, and start packing the next day; they're about halfway through that when an owl shows up at Grimmauld Place. Its message informs them that they will be pleased to discuss recent events with the Interim Minister of Magic. It's pretty much the last thing any of them want to hear, this close to finally going home. Still, the owl's only the messenger, so they make it clear that they'd rather this happen on what's become their turf than in some stranger's office.
The day after that, they're joined by a rather imposing thirty-something man, apparently the Minister in question.
"I have to congratulate you for how you handled Mrs. Black," he says. "That had us puzzled for quite some time."
Marty shrugs. "It's only one of duct tape's many uses. Besides, we had to get her to shut up somehow."
"Very true. I take it everyone's gathered in the kitchen?"
Marty nods, and leads the way downstairs. The conversation goes along pleasantly enough for ten or fifteen minutes, though Marty notices that none of them, including the Minister (last name of Shacklebolt) truly relaxes.
Despite having his guard up, by the time Marty notices Shacklebolt trying to draw his wand unobtrusively, Crease has already coughed meaningfully, and Mother's halfway through saying, "With all due respect, Minister, I hope you're not planning to use that thing on us."
Shacklebolt pauses, then removes his hand from his pocket, looking slightly guilty. "It's standard procedure, I'm afraid. You've done quite a bit for our war, but you are, unfortunately, Muggles."
"Be that as it may, I really don't think wiping our memories is a good way to start your tenure as head of government. For one thing, we'd probably never get out of this house."
"For another," Marty adds, "we don't live under your jurisdiction. A good way to turn your government around would be to have a look at why that particular rule doesn't seem to work."
Carl sits up in his seat. "And for a third thing, I can tell you exactly why you're not going to do it."
That stops everyone else in the room; finally, Shacklebolt raises an eyebrow and says, "Go on, then."
"You're not going to do it because someone in the FBI knows we've been here since late August. She heard about the original offer, and we've used her for some last-minute research more than once while we've been out here. She has hard copies of evidence that we were here, and instructions to go to the appropriate authorities if any of us act like we've been doing anything different in the last nine months."
Marty smiles, impressed. "Very good, Carl."
"And he's right," Crease says, beginning to smile as well. "If word gets out that you double-crossed American citizens in such a way, what little goodwill the Ministry of Magic has in America will disappear."
Shacklebolt considers the matter for a few moments, then sighs. "You would appear to have the checkmate, gentlemen. What is it that you'd like from the Ministry?"
"We want to go home," Mother says. "From there, we'll stay out of your hair if you stay out of ours."
"And the other half of the money your predecessors promised us," Whistler adds.
"Very well. In exchange, might I request your findings from your work in September? There's no sign that the Ministry ever received a full report - which makes sense, given how quickly you turned the tables on them."
"We'll have to write it up," Marty says. "And I don't know how much of it'll help you, unless you want to know just how much those guys had wrong in the public areas."
Shacklebolt chuckles. "Believe me, I already have some idea. But at the very least, it can help us move forward, rather than backward."
The Minister takes his leave not long afterward, wishing them good fortune on their way back to California. A few minutes after that, Carl says, "Okay, really. What is it with government jobs ending in big black guys wanting to buy our silence?"
Marty sighs. "I wish I could tell you."