Dr. Weasley and the United Nations

Back in the Chamber of the General Assembly of the United Nations, Kofi Annan furiously rapped his gavel against the podium. After nearly half and hour of heated altercation, the secretary-general had managed to restore order to the wildly out-of-control meeting with a little help from back-up security officers (the primary guards stationed outside the main entrance had mysteriously vanished), the few sane ambassadors who stood on the sidelines, and a little tear gas. The diplomats, though restless, were seated once more in their respective chairs with the exception of Victor Camilleri and Juan Yáñez-Barnuevo, who had been placed on opposite ends of the room. The Spaniard and the Maltan had not quite cooled down from their earlier dispute that had preceded the larger quarrel. Meanwhile, Ambassador Denisov of Russia had to be wheeled off to the infirmary after his off-hand comment about World War II had earned him a near fatal blow in the kidney by the representative from Switzerland. Meanwhile, a janitor was working diligently to mop up the puddles of mult-racial blood left around Denisov's seat. More than one ambassador about the room now sported misplaced noses, spiky green tails, and incredibly massive feet, due to the outrage of numerous wizards in the room. Frankly, Annan was very disappointed in all of them.

"I'm very disappointed in all of you," Annan spoke gravely. "You have completely and utterly disgraced what little dignity and respect the United Nations still maintains by behaving like a bunch of immature children. There will be repercussions, I assure you, just as soon as I have a word with the leaders of NATO and OPEC. As for you four..."

Annan turned to the side, where George Bush, Donald Trump, Ted Turner, and James Brown sat tied together and gagged on the stage. "I'll be speaking with the president about your restraining orders. The current president, Bush."

Dubya appeared disheartened.

"Now, if all of you don't mind, we need to vote on Mr. Copperfield's bill. I'm meeting my wife for lunch in an hour, and I would like to adjourn as soon as possible. The bill calls for the suspension of immigration for wizards and witches between countries. Let's just make this quick. All in favor-"

"Hold it right there!"

Every head in the room turned abruptly toward the entrance at the back of the chamber (except for Trump's, who really couldn't turn anything). Annan, already frustrated with the massive uprising that had taken place that morning, was none too pleased to be interrupted again. With greatest scorn he roved up the central aisle with his eyes to see British ambassador, Sir Emyr Jones Parry, working his way up the aisle, flanked by two younger-looking men and an incredibly well-endowed woman. The secretary-general was momentarily captivated by this young damsel's radiant beauty, to say nothing of her abnormally large and ostentatiously exposed breasts--enough that the party reached the podium without a single word of restraint from the Ghanaian.

"Please pardon this rather unorthodox interruption, Mr. Secretary-General," Sir Emyr spoke in a professional tone. "But you must admit, this has not been a day of well-followed procedure. Now, if you would permit it, my associate here wishes to make a few remarks regarding Mr. Copperfield's bill."

Glancing into the see of diplomats, Ron noticed with pleasure that Magnus was both gaping with shock at Ron's appearance and seething with anger at his forewarned attempts to thwart the American's proposal.

"Um, uh," Annan stammered, eyes having not deviated from the lush mountain of cleavage on display from Hermione's revealing shirt. "Uh, oh what the hell..."

He stepped down from the podium, tearing his eyes away from what was surely the epitome of seduction, and sat down in a frustrated heap in his personal chair. Parry nodded to Ron, then he, Frank, and Hermione took up the empty seats next to Kofi Annan. The redhead, meanwhile, had approached the podium rather nervously, not having spoken in front of a large crowd since the Potion Makers of America Convention in 2004. Not skilled at speaking without a script, he found difficulty in even beginning.

"Well...I just flew in from London and boy are my arms tired!"

Ron offered a hearty chuckle, but the ambassadors merely stared at him in silence.

"Oh come on! What are ya--a group of international diplomats or an oil painting?"

Nothing.

"Okay, then. Guess you guys aren't much into humor."

Ron glanced hopelessly at Hermione (she was the trained thinker after all) and she gave him a reassuring nod. He had no choice but to continue. Finding his voice, he began speaking rather nervously to the assembly, gaining confidence as he progressed.

"Look, the reason I'm here is not to make small jokes, but rather to beg your considerations of a very important matter. Muggles and wizards have been out to destroy each other for centuries. And now, in what is supposed to be the world's most powerful peace organization, the lot of you are trying to promote that conflict by imposing unfair laws upon the magical community. You're living in a backwards society; we should be building peace between Muggles and wizards, not destroying it. Can't we just resolve our differences and work together in harmony? Afterall, we're not that different. So I can make pigs fly. Is that any reason to hate me? What about all the amazing things the rest of you have created without magic? Television, microwave ovens, electricity, Joan Rivers...it baffles me the things you've been able to accomplish. We have magic; you have resources. Together, we can accomplish extraordinary things. But if you hinder us by confining us to our own countries, the world would enter into a factious war between the mortal and magical communities. Isn't it obvious what's happening here? We're being divided, weakened! How many times has this happened in history? And whenever these schisms appear, trouble always follows. You're perpetuating a negative, one that--"

"Fools!" barked Copperfield, storming up to the podium and turning with a look of rage to face the audience. "Have you not forgotten the utter devastation their kind caused with their impetuous war back at the beginning of the decade? What about the bombing in downtown London? What about the freak hurricanes that devastated South America? Then there's the war between Iran and Pakistan to consider, the result of a few enchanted turbans that escaped from Burj Dubai. And don't even get me started on the 2000 presidential election in the U.S. (He ignored Bush's attempted retort). We should consider ourselves lucky that the world continues to buy this whole terrorism façade. Not only have these magical fiends threatened the secret of their existence, but they have also endangered the very lives of the mortal citizens. Don't you understand? They're a hindrance! A menace to society! If we do not contain them, they may break free and cause unmitigated devastation to our world."

"Oh really, Copperfield," Sir Emyr spoke, clearly annoyed. "That's absurd. One again you've allowed your delusions to interfere with proper judgement. Just like the time you suggested that the Egyptians were responsible for global warming."

"Hey!" Bush interjected. "You told me it was aliens!"

"For obvious reasons," replied Magnus. "We didn't want you to get delusional and start bombing the shit our of Cairo."

Bush stared at him disgustedly.

"Oh sure, you make one little mistake in Iraq and suddenly everybody's against you!"

"Quiet, George!" snapped Magnus.

Spontaneously, David Cooney rose from his seat to speak.

"This is preposterous, Copperfield!" he exclaimed. "You are behaving like a madman! I can't imagine why you are so critical of wizards, considering you yourself are one. You've become a little obsessively delirious don't you think? Why don't you just run along and peddle your potions you sorry excuse for a politician!"

Magnus glared menacingly at him.

"I've had just about enough out of you."

Without warning, Magnus withdrew his wand and transfigured the Irishman into a tea cozy. Next to him, Peter Maurer squealed with delight.

"Excellent! The tea was getting rather cold."

Uttering those words, he placed Cooney on top of a curiously misplaced kettle positioned on the table in front of him. Meanwhile, the terrified Muggles seemed twice as inclined to support any form of anti-magic legislation even if it had been proposed by the very man who had instilled so much fear in them.

Magnus followed this act by shooting a bolt of powerful, thundering lightning straight into the air, further startling the mortal ambassadors. It was obvious now what tactic Copperfield was employing. By intimidating the General Assembly, he could virtually force them to obey any command he gave. It was a common tactic used in totalitarian governments during the first half of the twentieth century. Magnus had apparently taken a key interest in despotism.

But what the American failed to realize was that he faced a disadvantage rarely presented to Caesar, Napoleon, or Stalin--an enemy of equal opposition.

"Copperfield!" cried Annan. "How dare you! You know our restrictions on magic when we are in session! Mr. Brown, restrain him!"

Annan's deputy was quick to respond, whipping out his own, stubby wand. Sadly, Magnus was even swifter.

"Desterrar!"

A fire-like spell, whitish in color, spiraled from the end of Magnus's wand and struck Brown square in the chest, hurtling the helpless wizard into the air. His stunned body hurtled high above their heads a smashed directly into the inlay of Britain on the U.N. seal--a terrible irony.

"Stop him!" cried Annan again, helpless against the powers of a wizard.

Magnus, though older, possessed the reflexes of a cat. He whirled around just as two burly security guards foolishly rushed toward him and struggling to draw their pistols. He dispatched them with a simple flick of his wrist and an utterance of Desterrar. Only then did Ron recognize the gravity of the situation; Magnus was not backing down. Arming himself with his own wand, he noticed Sir Emyr and Hermione performing likewise. He nodded to the two of them. A moment later, the Spaniard Barnuevo materialized onto the stage as well, long, knotted wand held professionally in his tan grasp.

"Your outnumbered, Copperfield," Sir Emyr said hotly. "Stand down!"

By now, the rest of the present witches and wizards had joined Ron and his companions on the platform, each holding a wand and a powerful grudge against the American.

Magnus's lip curled.

"Do not underestimate me, Parry."

In a flash of perpetual motion, Magnus leapt into the air and bellowed some sinister curse. A portion of the platform exploded, flinging the Nigerian and Chiléan ambassadors into the air; gravity subsequently took hold of them and they smashed into a group of language interpreters. Ron was quick on the counterattack and sent a disarming charm toward the levitating Magnus. He dodged it easily, Disapparating and reappearing on top of the stone desk directly behind Kofi Annan.

The Secretary-General attempted to eschew Magnus's attack, but the wizard was simply too quick for him. He cast the jelly-legs jinx on Annan and cackled as the Ghanaian collapsed to the floor, unable to make use of his flopping, gelatin-like appendages.

"Bombarda!" hollered Sir Emyr, taking advantage of Magnus's temporary distraction with his cruel torture of the Muggle.

Chunks of marble flew into the air as Parry's spell obliterated the enormous desk. The resulting energy pulse forced Annan, jelly legs and all, into a crumpled heap at Ron's feet. Magnus bounded from the detonation but not before receiving a disorienting blast from the energy pulse. Pieces of the former desk struck him like meteorites as he scrambled to regain his footing. Parry, reacting slightly more quickly, cast a protective shield over himself, Barnuevo, and Ron to incinerate the dangerous projectiles. Others were no so fortunate; a sharp fragment of the marble struck Ted Turner in the temple, rendering him unconscious and bleeding. Magnus swept around behind where the desk had once stood, allowing his enemies to make the next move.

Barnuevo was the next to advance, bellowing in Spanish as he moved in on Copperfield, letting fly a barrage of curses upon the notorious American. A single bolt grazed Magnus's left leg, generating a wave of pain that coursed throughout his entire body. He winced, but given it so resembled the pain of his arthritis, he was quickly able to overcome it. Just as Barnuevo scattered around a large remnant of the desk and was nearly on top of him, Copperfield screeched, "Stupefy!"

Instinctively, Ron lurched forward a deflected the spell away from his Iberian comrade. The curse reverberated off the walls and zoomed back toward the ambassador from Cuba.

"Mierda," he groaned as the bolt struck his, chest, petrifying him on the spot.

Meanwhile, Ron, Sir Emyr and Barnuevo were closing in on Magnus. Ron detected a flicker of fear behind the man's over-sized bifocals, but Copperfield displayed no immediate willingness to surrender.

"This has gone far enough, Copperfield," said Sir Emyr. "Back down or face the consequences."

"Sí," interjected Barneuvo. "Tú eres terminando."

"Bring it on, Pedro!" Copperfield challenged.

"Viliofas!"

"Mactamorda!"

"Stupefy!"

Momentarily, the entire chamber was engulfed in a massive body of light, first encompassing all of the colors of the spectrum and then, as if they'd been refracted through some giant, unseen prism, merged into a single white glow. Ron, Parry, and Barnuevo had all muttered their incantations simultaneously, resulting in some sort of bizarre conglomeration of magic. But the beam lasted merely a second or two before vanishing into the abyss. The room's occupants sat momentarily stunned by the display, before Ron finally came to his senses once more. Eyes darting about the room, he prepared himself for another assault, but there was no sign of Copperfield. None except for a smoldering black burn in the stage where the American ambassador had previously stood. Ron, Hermione, Sir Emyr, and the other wizards wasted no time in advancing on the spot. Annan crawled over, jelly legs useless, to join them. The unfortunate politician felt incredibly demeaned, clambering about before so many esteemed individuals and scuffing his new trousers. However, he was eager to know what had become of Magnus. Ron, being an expert on magical potions and residues, collected a sample on the edge of his finger and scrutinized it.

"Is he dead?" Bush inquired from the far side of the platform.

James Brown reared back and butted the ex-president in the head.

"Of course he is you fool! What'd you think he was, some kind of phoenix?"

Meanwhile, Ron was thinking deeply.

"Well, Doctor?" inquired Sir Emyr. "What happened to him?"

"Hmmm," Ron pondered. "It's been a while since Dr. Nolan's Aftermagic course, but if I'm not mistaken this is Fluorious Ocomus. It's usually given off when two or more curses are cast upon an object at the same time. It's similar to Priori Incantantum, but the effect is different. The spells don't merge directly, they merely strike the same target. The magic, in a sense, is confused and usually to object is either completely destroyed or somehow transported to another location. Since there's no trace of human remains anywhere, I can't say for sure if he's dead or merely disfigured somewhere. One thing's for sure though; his day's in politics are over."

"Nevertheless, we should be cautions," observed Sir Emyr.

"Right," Ron agreed. "Magnus may be down but he's not out. He just proved his a fairly powerful wizard, maybe even dabbling in the Dark Arts a little bit. But I don't think he'll be back anytime soon. Why after the pandemonium he caused here today he'll have every ministry in the world searching for him."

A loud flop resounded behind them, alerting them once more to the unstable condition of their fearless (?) leader, Kofi Annan. The man was futilely attempting to rise to his feet, though me may as well have been trying to make Michael Jackson seduce Jennifer Lopez. Ron and Hermione both were forced to suppress a laugh as Annan managed to lift his form about a foot off the ground before his useless feet slipped and he slammed face-first onto the cold hardwood. Sir Emyr quickly rushed over and restored the poor man's appendages to perfect working order.

"Right, sorry about the desk," Parry said hurriedly, then leaned forward and whispered. "Take it out of the Swiss treasury.

Annan's composure was shaken and his expression livid as the British ambassador helped his comrade stumble wearily to his feet. Once the secretary-general had regained his balance and brushed off his battered suit, he pointed an accusative finger at Ron.

"You...you--"

Parry intervened.

"Annan," he said calmly. "This man has done nothing. Everything that has occurred here today was entirely the fault of Copperfield. I understand you are a bit enraged by all of this, but all you need right now is some time to relax and cool off. What do you say? Meeting adjourned?"

Annan wheeled around on his fellow politician.

"Hell, what I need is a good stiff drink."

Sir Emyr smiled.

"That's the spirit, old boy. What do you say we head on over to the Hard Rock and meet your wife. As a matter of fact, we'll all go! Dinner's on the taxpayers everybody!"

The proposition of a free feast of greasy hamburgers and salty fries at the expense of the common citizens, apart from discomforting the bowels of every man and woman in the room over the age of fifty, jarred the ambassadors out of their petrified reverie. Soon, they were in a frenetic state, not only for the impending lunch, but for the much needed bathroom break that the bewildered diplomats had been denied for the past several hours. While the unaltered ambassadors filed excitedly out of the chamber (Sir Emyr having lifted the spell imposed to privatize the WWD seminar), Barnuevo roamed around to collect the stunned, transfigured, or otherwise abnormal individuals in the room (including the tea cozy formerly known as David Cooney) and restored them to their original state. Meanwhile, Annan, Parry, Ron, Hermione, Frank, and the other witches and wizards had gathered in a circle on the stage.

"Thank you for everything, Dr. and Mrs. Weasley," Sir Emyr spoke politely. "You have been most helpful. Now Copperfield can no longer darken the political future of magic."

"Yes, we are most appreciative," seconded the Canadian.

The other ambassadors expressed their gratitude as well.

"We were happy to help," Hermione replied. "There's just one thing. What exactly is a WWD seminar?"

Sir Emyr smiled.

"Wizarding World Discussion. We are required to have them regularly, just to make sure every world citizen is receiving due attention for his problems. Though I can assure you they are rarely as exciting as the one you've just witnessed."

"No doubt," said Hermione. "Well Ronald, so much for civil persuasion. I guess sometimes the brawn is more useful than the brain."

"Don't I know it," Frank added.

"Please," Ron said incredulously. "You once tried to put an Oxford professor in a half-Nelson when you received a D on one of your essays. Poor fellow; he probably still has the scars."

"Can't help it. These arms are lethal."

Frank flexed his corded muscles and grinned.

"Show off," Ron hissed.

The entire group chuckled amiably, Sir Emyr concluding with, "Shall we go?"

Everyone nodded and proceeded toward the door. Before they had gone ten yards, an angry shout sounded behind them.

"Hey!" Bush cried indignantly. "What about us?"

Ron turned, ascended the stage once more, pointed his wand at the entangled group, and muttered something incoherent. James Brown vanished from the group and reappeared in all his shining glory next to Ron. Before Trump, Turner, or Dubya could struggle, the ropes magically tightened themselves around the remaining captives. Both men glared at them.

"What's up with that?" Trump asked hotly.

Ron shrugged. "I like him."

"That's right, that's right," said Brown and danced offstage.

"So you're just going to leave me tied to this moron?"

Dr. Weasley's only response was, "Which one?"