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I'll be doing the full Order report tomorrow regarding the camp visits when I finish them; I'll report to Mulciber at the same time. I wanted to send you this tonight, however, because it's really a Cardinal Report.
Sort of.
One of the visits today was the camp at Maidstone. The administrator's name was Garth Spillett. We met alone, in his office. Maidstone's goal--their set pound of flesh, if you will--is a 21% reduction. Not the lowest nor the highest.
Now, initially Spillett sounds almost...inappropriately happy about the entire idea. As if I were conferring some sort of treat upon him. Bizarre. Wonderful! So pleased to be of service to the Protectorate! We'll arrange to have the changes you need whipped out in no time!
However. I started talking about the extra demands it would place upon him in terms of data collection and additional required reports. The back-pedaling was immediate. So many logistical problems! Surely it would be better if we waited! Yes, much better to do that. Why not delay until spring? Surely Mr Mulciber won't mind!
The idea that Mr Mulciber 'wouldn't mind waiting' made me tempted to laugh, at first. But it quickly became clear that he had something to hide (and he was doing a bloody inept job of disguising that fact).
Then, it's sort of difficult to describe. Unfamiliar. I felt this...this irritation welling up. This strong contempt. Like...this was something I had to do and he was getting in my way.
Before I knew it, I had whipped my wand out of my sleeve and I had it pointed straight between his eyes and--
Merlin, I managed to bite back the word Imperio! just in time.
I mean, I barely managed to stop myself. He looked white-faced, but I went absolutely cold with shock when I realised how perilously close I'd come.
NO ONE HAD TOLD ME TO IMPERIUS THE BASTARD. NO ONE ORDERED IT, NO ONE WAS THERE TO WITNESS IT. IT WAS ENTIRELY MY IDEA.
Hell, it wasn't even an idea. Just...just an impulse that I almost carried out. Somehow I'd dived into Mulciber's mindset, pursuing Mulciber's goals without even noticing. And I almost followed them all the way over the cliff.
He shrank back into his chair. I took a deep breath, put the wand between my palms and slowly rolled it back and forth and told him that I certainly didn't want to have to enforce the sort of discipline that Mr Mulciber often expected me to mete out, and it would be a much, much better thing if we could avoid any kind of unpleasantness.
He all but fell over himself to agree and finally seemed willing to discuss logistics. I cut the meeting short about five minutes after that.
Don't be surprised when I send Auror Lamont a private message tomorrow. I want to report this bloke to her, because I'm pretty sure he's hiding something, and if she investigates him and discovers more financial shenanigans, it will make her look good and tighten our relationship as mutual sources.
As for me...by all that's merciful, please tell Severus and Sirius I need that potion.
Sort of.
One of the visits today was the camp at Maidstone. The administrator's name was Garth Spillett. We met alone, in his office. Maidstone's goal--their set pound of flesh, if you will--is a 21% reduction. Not the lowest nor the highest.
Now, initially Spillett sounds almost...inappropriately happy about the entire idea. As if I were conferring some sort of treat upon him. Bizarre. Wonderful! So pleased to be of service to the Protectorate! We'll arrange to have the changes you need whipped out in no time!
However. I started talking about the extra demands it would place upon him in terms of data collection and additional required reports. The back-pedaling was immediate. So many logistical problems! Surely it would be better if we waited! Yes, much better to do that. Why not delay until spring? Surely Mr Mulciber won't mind!
The idea that Mr Mulciber 'wouldn't mind waiting' made me tempted to laugh, at first. But it quickly became clear that he had something to hide (and he was doing a bloody inept job of disguising that fact).
Then, it's sort of difficult to describe. Unfamiliar. I felt this...this irritation welling up. This strong contempt. Like...this was something I had to do and he was getting in my way.
Before I knew it, I had whipped my wand out of my sleeve and I had it pointed straight between his eyes and--
Merlin, I managed to bite back the word Imperio! just in time.
I mean, I barely managed to stop myself. He looked white-faced, but I went absolutely cold with shock when I realised how perilously close I'd come.
NO ONE HAD TOLD ME TO IMPERIUS THE BASTARD. NO ONE ORDERED IT, NO ONE WAS THERE TO WITNESS IT. IT WAS ENTIRELY MY IDEA.
Hell, it wasn't even an idea. Just...just an impulse that I almost carried out. Somehow I'd dived into Mulciber's mindset, pursuing Mulciber's goals without even noticing. And I almost followed them all the way over the cliff.
He shrank back into his chair. I took a deep breath, put the wand between my palms and slowly rolled it back and forth and told him that I certainly didn't want to have to enforce the sort of discipline that Mr Mulciber often expected me to mete out, and it would be a much, much better thing if we could avoid any kind of unpleasantness.
He all but fell over himself to agree and finally seemed willing to discuss logistics. I cut the meeting short about five minutes after that.
Don't be surprised when I send Auror Lamont a private message tomorrow. I want to report this bloke to her, because I'm pretty sure he's hiding something, and if she investigates him and discovers more financial shenanigans, it will make her look good and tighten our relationship as mutual sources.
As for me...by all that's merciful, please tell Severus and Sirius I need that potion.
