Dr. Weasley and the United Nations

Captain Dupree was by no means an understanding gentleman. Twenty-five years in the New York Port Authority, followed by a decade in ambassadorial security had eradicated even the tiniest iota of compassion for criminals, whether petty or felonious. Indeed, a breech of his top-notch security system at the United Nations Headquarters did not leave him the least bit cheerful. At that moment, his rage could have fueled an army. With no regard to the melee that had erupted at the front of the chamber, Dupree grabbed Ron and Hermione violently, clasping an arm in each of his enormous claws. Then, with the strength of Hercules, he lifted the two terrified wizards from the floor and escorted them out the door from which they had entered.

"All right," he said gruffly. "Names. NOW!'

"I'm Rebecca Holmes and he's-" Hermione began but Dupree abruptly cut her off.

"Don't feed me any of that bullshit," he snapped. "My horny deputies may have gone soft at the sight of those silicon balloons of yours but I've seen enough half-naked prostitutes in this city to not be phased by them. Besides, the sight of my ex-wife in the morning is enough to turn any man off women for a while."

"Hey, don't take your personal problems out on us," Ron said tartly.

"Shut the hell up, carrot top!" hissed the captain. "Judging by the looks of you I'd say Miss America here has to be getting a little cash in her g-string. Now I want your names dammit!"

Ron fell silent--whether from shame or defiance it was difficult to discern. This only caused Dupree to tighten his clench on Ron's arm, which was already going numb with pain. Hermione, meanwhile, was fingering in her robes for her wand. Unfortunately for her, the captain seemed to have eyes on all four sides of his head.

"Hands where I can see them, girl!" he barked. "Don't toy with me. I've foiled escape plots generated by criminal masterminds; I'm not going to be fooled by a couple of amateur burglars like you two! Now, for the last time, what are your damn names?"

"How about Simon and Garfunkel?" suggested a fourth voice.

Dupree's head snapped to attention. "What the hell?"

Even before Dupree's lightning reflexes could register this new threat, a bolt of red sparks impaled him in the chest and he flew backward, the unmistakable effects of a petrification curse falling upon him. A wave of relief washed over Ron and Hermione as they pulled away from the slackened grip of the stupefied security officer and glanced down the corridor to find the origin of the spell.

Minister of Magic Frank Star was normally a handsome, well-groomed man with a rather calm demeanor, attested to by his warming smile and small stature. Standing a just under 5'10", he was shorter than Hermione yet more brawny. Where Hermione had pleasing, plush curves, Frank had hard muscles and pronounced veins. He quite resembled Harry Potter, Ron's best friend, except for Frank's hazel eyes and sandy blonde hair. Ron envied his charming, well-built appearance. Now, however, the minister looked absolutely livid, his tie was loose, his robes were wrinkled, and his hair appeared as though it had not been combed in weeks. Presently, he returned his wand to his inside pocket and stared gravely at his two subordinates.

"I've been all over this bloody place looking for you two!" he hissed. "I would have thought that when you discovered the Buddha was a portkey you would have had enough since to make the return trip, but it seems that you just couldn't resist poking your nose around an international embassy! Let me guess, Ron, curiosity got the better of you again, eh? Didn't you learn your lesson that time you were nearly expelled from Oxford for peeking in the girl's bathroom?"

"Excuse me?" Hermione said, now looking almost as angry as Frank. "You did what, Ronald Weasley?"

"Shut up, Frank!" Ron returned sharply. "No need to get me in more trouble. Look, we were just-"

"Not another word, Doctor," Frank interrupted, holding up his hand. "Not here. We need to contact the ambassador, then move to a secure location. But first-"

Frank knelt over the motionless body of Captain Dupree. After applying the proper memory chair, he removed a vial of colorless liquid (Ron recognized it as his own recipe for a Sleeping Potion) and poured a few drops down Dupree's thick throat. Finally, he whisked the captain into a nearby chair, murmured "Rennervate." Dupree stirred slightly but shortly fell into a deep sleep, blissfully unaware of anything but his afternoon nap.

His work with the Muggle completed, Frank withdrew one of the Ministry's airplane like memos and sent it off to the general assembly with a single wave.

"Now," he said, turning his attention back to the two Weasleys, "I want the two of you to return to Sir Emyr's office at one. I trust you're familiar with it by now. See you on the other side."

And laying a finger beside of his nose, and giving a nod, Frank Dissaparated.

Hermione turned to look at her husband.

"Did anything about that strike you as odd?" she inquired.

"Please," Ron sighed. "You should see him when he's drunk. Shall we?"

Ron and Hermione locked arms, spun as a unit, and vanished with a resounding click.

***

"What I want to know," Ron began, "is why you called both me and Hermione to your office if you were getting ready to go to New York?"

Frank, now seated behind the large glass desk in the British ambassadorial office, gave Ron a perturbed look.

"Well," he answered, "If you would have had the patience to wait on me, I actually required your assistance. The British ambassador to the United Nations, Sir Emyr Jones Parry, is a close associate of mine. He owled me few days ago about a very serious situation transpiring here in at the New York headquarters, requesting that I venture here to offer my assistance. He also specifically requested that I bring you with me, Ron. Had you possessed the constraint to wait on me, the ceramic Buddha was intended to transport the three of us here. You have information that is very critical to my purpose here."

"And what might that be?" demanded Hermione.

Frank opened his mouth to speak, but before he could fulfill Hermione's question, the office door flew open. The resultant vibrations rattled the wall-size window behind them, and Frank feared for a moment that it might shatter. From the hall entered a tall, elderly man with thinning gray hair who, had it not been for his tattered business suit and bloody knuckles, would have had a very respectable countenance. Given their awareness that there was a massive brawl now underway in the U.N. General Assembly chamber, Hermione and Ron were not altogether surprised by Parry's appearnce.

"Ah!" said Frank, suddenly cheerful. "Emyr, old boy! Good to see you again."

The minister crossed the room, arm extended, but Sir Emyr did not oblige him. Apparently he was in no mood for niceties. Marching over to his desk with the gait of a man who had endured more than a few years of bureaucratic diplomacy, he seated himself quietly in the leather chair from which Frank had just risen. Apparently the ambassador had little regard for political guests.

"Emyr," Frank said calmly, trying to coax his friend into a more welcoming mood. "This is Dr. Ronald Weasley and his wife, Hermione. They both work for the Ministry of Magic."

"Brilliant," Sir Emyr responded rather coldly. "Our little international criminals."

Upon seeing the shocked look on Ron's face, Parry smirked. "Oh yes, Doctor. Do you honestly think we would trust the Muggles with our security? No, there are all kinds of magical protection."

"Seems to have failed," Hermione said sarcastically.

Sir Emyr glowered at her, but Frank intervened.

"Emyr, Emyr, please pardon Hermione. She's always had difficulty holding her tongue. Now, I told you they were coming. Dr. Weasley is the one who's going to help us take down Copperfield."

With this sudden revelation, Sir Emyr's attitude changed entirely. His grimace turned to a smile, and he now stared at the wizarding couple with hospitality rather than contempt.

"Of course!" he exclaimed, rising from his chair and moving to shake hands with Ron, a courtesy he conspicuously failed to share with Frank. "Pleased to meet you Dr. Weasley. I've been looking forward to meeting you. And you're beautiful wife!"

He turned, beaming, to Hermione and kissed her hand. This would have been seen as a gentlemanly gesture, had his kisses not multiplied and traveled gradually up her arm. Frank quickly pulled him away.

"Emyr, Emyr, take it easy!" Frank pleaded while the diplomat composed himself.

Sir Emyr, slightly pink, straightened his jacket.

"Forgive me, madam. My wife is pushing sixty, and I don't meet many beautiful ladies these days."

Hermione blushed, but Ron looked ready to pummel the ambassador, elderly or not.

"Think nothing of it, Sir Emyr," she smiled. "But I would like to know what exactly is going on here."

"Yes," Ron said rather forcefully, stepping toward the ambassador. "My wife and I would like an explanation. What's this business with Copperfield? Why is he trying to stop wizard immigration?"

Sir Emyr frowned and returned to his desk.

"Have a seat."

The ambassador waved his hand and three armchairs materialized in front of his desk. Ron and Hermione were hesitant.

"So Copperfield's allegations were true," Hermione observed. "You are a wizard."

"Indeed," Sir Emyr replied. "Unbeknownst to the British public, fortunately. To be perfectly honest, even Prime Minister Blair didn't know until after I'd already been appointed. I took a strong interest in politics after graduating from Hogwarts, and thought it wise that I conceal my magical identity from the aristocracy until the time was right. But it's not altogether an uncommon thing. There are hundreds of wizard-politicians around the world, many of them in positions of great power."

"Interesting," Hermione replied.

"But I digress," said Sir Emyr. "Now down to business. Four years ago, Dr. Weasley's resignation and destruction of the ultimate beauty potion resulted in the eminent collapse of Donald Trump's cosmetology empire. It seems you were the only one working at that corporation with half a sense of creativity, Doctor."

Ron turned slightly red, knowing that the entire discovery had happened quite by accident.

"Anyway, shortly after the company's collapse, Copperfield, out of a job, left Chicago for Washington D.C. According to our sources he had a relative there with whom he was going to reside until he found another job. But curiously, within a week he was sitting behind a desk in the White House, as a special aid to the President of the United States. After that no one heard much from him for a while, until the American ambassador to the U.N. at that time was removed two years later due to unpopularity with the Congress. Then, out of the clear blue, Bush brings Magnus Copperfield to the front line as his nominee for the next U.N. ambassador. If that wasn't unusual enough, the American Senate approved him with practically no objection. Of course, those of us in the U.N. that were of the magical community suspected foul play. Perhaps Copperfield had cast the Imperius Curse on the president and the senators, but there was obviously nothing we could do about it. We had no physical evidence to convict him with, and international magical law forbids us to discuss wizarding issues with any Muggle outside the General Assembly other than each country's head of state--in that case, George Bush."

"So why didn't you tell him about it?" Hermione inquired.

"We considered it," replied Sir Emyr, "but unfortunately, Bush is a rather difficult person to negotiate with. If we suggested the possibility that he may have been bewitched, he would vehemently deny it."

"What happened, then?" Ron asked.

Sir Emyr sighed.

"Copperfield was admitted. "I kept a close eye on him, but for the longest time there was nothing in his behavior to suggest that he was up to something."

"Until recently," interjected Frank.

"Quite so," replied the ambassador. "Suddenly, in the last few months, Copperfield has been trying to push through a whole heap of anti-magical legislation, aimed primarily at immigration."

"But why would Copperfield want to pass laws against wizards?" Ron wondered. "He is one afterall."

"You misunderstand, Dr. Weasley," said Sir Emyr. "These bills are aimed primarily at foreign wizards, or foreign to the United States at least. He's attempted to cover up that fact by making it an international issue. Obviously, most of the Muggles in the Assembly have been in support of these measures."

"That's something that's been bothering me," Ron observed. "Is it not the foremost rule of international magical law that wizards and witches are forbidden to reveal their identities to Muggles?"

Emyr shook his head.

"We play by our own rules here, Dr. Weasley," Emyr replied. "But have no worries. We have taken all the necessary precautions. All Muggle ambassadors are forced to sign a binding magical contract upon their induction into the United Nations. If any one of them reveals our existence to a non-U.N. official, he is automatically brought before the Council of Magic, has his memory modified, and is expelled from the U.N. on the grounds of insubordination. They're on a tight leash, believe me."

"Emyr," Frank interjected. "The measures?"

"Right," continued Parry. "Well, the other wizard ambassadors and myself, as well as a select few Muggles, have worked with Annan to block most of Copperfield's proposals. The secretary-general has been very sympathetic towards us during his tenure."

Hermione was still puzzled.

"Well if you've been able to prevent these laws so far, then why do you need our help?"

"Because," replied Jones Parry. "Annan's term has almost expired, and his successor is the most anti-magic man I have ever encountered."

Ron's thoughts drifted to Harry's Uncle Vernon, and he wondered if Sir Emyr had ever made his acquaintance.

"But you're on the Security Council," Hermione protested. "Don't you have veto power?"

"Yes," replied the ambassador, "but unfortunately it can only be used within the Security Council when we meet. In the General Assembly, it is powerless. I'm afraid the only way to prevent the passage of the bill is to garner enough votes to defeat it or to discredit Copperfield.

"That's where you come in, Dr. Weasley," Sir Emyr continued. "You've worked with Copperfield before. What are his underlying motives? If we can prove they're malevolent, then I can call for a special investigation and potentially have him removed."

Ron thought for a moment. In the years he had worked under Magnus, he had learned that the businesswizard was no the least bit fond of non-American (excluding Canadian) witches and wizards, particularly the British. Nevertheless, Ron never suspected Copperfield's detestation of foreigners to be so great that he would get himself appointed ambassador to the United Nations just to get rid of them. There was also the possibility that Magnus was holding a grudge against Ron for more or less causing the demise of Donald Trump Cosmetology Enterprises, as well as Magnus's high-paying job with a health plan and dental insurance. However, even that seemed inadequate to justify the magnanimous actions his former boss was taking. Ron suspected there was something much deeper to this mystery.

"I'm not sure," Ron replied. "There are a couple of things I can think of, but none of the really make any sense. I think these anti-immigration laws are all part of some greater scheme of his. Perhaps he's trying to divide up the world population of wizards--destroy their contact."

"Divide and conquer," suggested Frank. "Just like Caesar."

"Maybe," Ron acknowledged. "But knowing Magnus, I'm sure he has something to gain from all of this."

Sir Emyr's head dropped into his hands. The elderly man seemed to be feeling his age at that moment, or perhaps it was just the vanishing of hope for the wizarding world. Frank was currently pacing back and forth in front of the window, occasionally gazing out at the skyline, deep in thought. Hermione, however, was pondering an idea that had come to her earlier in the discussion, but was unsure of its validity.

"Mr. Ambassador, sir," she said quietly. "What if Ron simply addresses the General Assembly itself? Maybe all the Muggles need is a little civil persuasion to make them see the lack of jurisprudence in Copperfield's proposals. I mean, they're diplomats. Shouldn't they be working for the good of the world? How is inhibiting the freedom to migrate beneficial?"

Sir Emyr glanced up at her, curiously.

"Interesting suggestion, Mrs. Weasley, " he replied. "Ordinarily, I would render that proposition an otiose gamble, but under the present circumstances, it might have benefits. To speak frankly, that idea just may be crazy enough to work."

Standing up, he added, "And if all else fails, stun the bastard."

Hermione Frank followed suit as Sir Emyr strode quickly toward the door. Ron, however, remained in his seat.

"Doctor," Sir Emyr spoke to the sandy-haired wizard. "We mustn't tarry. If Annan has managed to restore order, Copperfield will be putting the bill to a vote any moment."

Ron remained motionless for a moment, then turned abruptly as if he's just be woken from sleep.

"It's just...something Magnus said to me one after a particularly unsuccessful day at work. He said 'One day you British will pay for your impudence, Muggles and wizards alike.' What do you suppose he meant by that?"

"I don't know," Sir Emyr answered honestly. "But we must move quickly."