Charles read the Daily Prophet as frequently as it was published and so he was up to date on the latest threat to society: Veela. Not that this was anything new, he had hardly ignored the incidents that had predated the most recent one. Veela were a problem much like his late wife: not human and perfectly designed to exploit him. In Noelle's case, should her phantom turn up in his home he would be forced either to put up with him or to move house once again. Spirits were immune to most spells, after all. However, he rather liked the idea of bedding a veela if he was honest, but he didn't care for the thought that doing so wouldn't be on his terms but rather on the terms of the creature's literally enchanting features. Then there were the less alluring aspects of a veela that Mr. Pettigrew had suffered and made the papers for.
"And which gentleman do you propose deliver that message?" Charles certainly wouldn't be volunteering for that embarrassment any time soon, not that it was his department that ought to be tasked with such an assignment. "I should like to see them run out of Britain and back to the Balkans or wherever they originate from as much as the next man, but negotiating with such beasts is rather futile if you ask me."
"And which gentleman do you propose deliver that message?" Charles certainly wouldn't be volunteering for that embarrassment any time soon, not that it was his department that ought to be tasked with such an assignment. "I should like to see them run out of Britain and back to the Balkans or wherever they originate from as much as the next man, but negotiating with such beasts is rather futile if you ask me."
