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March 26th, 1888 - Office of the Minister
Ross had a sinking sense in his chest ever since reading yesterday's Prophet.  This was very much not something that should have become a problem - veela weren't native to England, and usually had the good sense to lie low when they were here. Especially if they were pretending to be muggles. And yet here he was, 8:30 A.M. on a Monday, looking at a week-agenda that was going to at any moment be upended by the fucking veela issue. Veela Strikes London. And of course this was a Ministerial issue, because they could not have veela running around nearly setting magic streets on fire, and Ross was going to have to pull a lawyer in to draft a policy on this before it became even more of a problem. He already had the starts of a headache.

(The one consolation was that, of all the Pettigrews, it was at least not the one who had sponsored his campaign. That would have required personal and professional involvement, but luckily Albert Pettigrew wasn't really on Ross' radar.)

He sat at the Minister's desk with folders of current veela policy spread out in front of him. With nothing else on the calendar until 9:20, this at least gave him a start on the issue - in theory. The sound of a knock on the door caused Ross' eyebrows to raise.

"Come in," he announced, because anyone up here before 9 certainly wanted something from him, and he might as well engage them in person lest they wait outside to ambush him.

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Gwen had made the decision to go and see the minister after reading the stories of the vela attack, and discovering that there was more than one passing herself off in society as a real woman. Her own attack by that horrid vela creature in the music shop hadn’t made the news, and not one to let the chance of a dramatic entrance pass her by, she had decided that the minister himself needed to hear the story and act!

When Gwen heard the deep voice bid enter, she glanced at the secretary who manned the outer office, and the woman opened the door, and the Countess stepped into the room, with all the drama and gravitas that a lifetime of public life had imbued her with. Her very large, bright crimson hat, festooned with feathers and organza, by the house of Lyton, filled the doorway, a colour she knew suited her pale skin and dark hair very well.

’Minister Ross,’ she greeted offering a white gloved hand to the Minister of Magic, her parasol gripped in the other. ’Thank you ever so much for meeting with me so early, your secretary said you had no other appointments and I rather insisted, let it not be said that public servants and ladies are not abed at 9.’ she greeted with a warm smile, she had a charity breakfast at 9:30, and was keen to have something scandalous to discuss at the affair.


[Image: gwen1_zpsukiwakfx.jpg]
Gwen is referred to as Countess of Adinbury by others, but as Lady Adinbury when you are speaking to her
#3
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Ross made a mental note to tell his secretary that, going forward, non-Ministerial rich people shouldn't be told to just invite themselves into his office. Instead of saying this, he smiled and gestured at the chair across from him, "Go right ahead and take a seat, Lady Adinbury."

"What would you like to discuss?"

#4
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Eugene was not the kind who liked to interrupt anyone, for any reason, but when his head office sent him straight to the minister's office with a specific directive, he did not argue. Upon arriving at the Minister's secretary's desk, he balked once told the Minister was in a meeting. Frankly, though she was a sweet woman, Mrs. Skeeter terrified him and he was not about to cross her either; or fail in what she'd asked him to do.

Actually if he were being honest, Eugene was far more terrified of Morwenna than he was of Mr. Ross.

And so he and the secretary hemmed and hawed about interrupting, but in the end, decided that he probably should, since the meeting in progress wasn't exactly scheduled. Hesitantly he knocked on the door and waited.

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Gwen had already begun to move towards one of the chairs in the room, before he offered her an invitation to sit. Those little courtesies, were all but a given by a man in his position and the Countess seated herself with as much grace and austere dignity as she could muster. ’Minister, I’m sure you have seen the paper recently, and all of this Veela unpleasantness’ she said with a highly mortified air, and unrolled the paper with the headline announcing the ongoing veela problem. ’As one of the victims’ she gave a slightly dramatic pause, ’of these creatures, I am here to beg that you not lift the sanctions against them.’, from the centre of the newspaper she plucked a well placed white handkerchief, only slightly smudged with ink from the paper that hadn’t quite adhered to the paper, but didn’t at all affect Gwens ability to wring the kerchief between her gloved fingers.



’All of the married women of England fear for the sanctity of their marriages, and the safety of the magical community.’ she explained in a plaintive voice, very much believing her own dramatic anxiety. ’I myself was threatened and harranged by one of these creatures pretending to be a woman in a muggle music shop’. she emphasised the word. ’She made all sorts of horrid threats to me right then and there, and I fear that were it not for my own tremulous disposition, and shock that she might have transformed there and then and hurt goodness knows how many muggles!’. She gave a dramatic sniff, and help the kerchief to her lip dramatically.

She had been waiting for some sort of responce when there was a light knock at the door.


[Image: gwen1_zpsukiwakfx.jpg]
Gwen is referred to as Countess of Adinbury by others, but as Lady Adinbury when you are speaking to her


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