Carefully uncorking one of the wine bottles, Sanderson pours himself a glass in a silver chalice. The old, weathered wizard shows quite the nimble dexterity despite his age. His white hair is neatly cut and is dressed rather elegantly in a fine cloak rather than in his usual deceiving wool or cotton blended sweaters. He gracefully handed the poured wine chalice to Potentate Newport, who murmurs his thanks.
"Anyone else?" Sanderson asked as he glanced at the remaining Potentates in the room.
Potentate Forsythe sneered at the offer. "Have you any Firewhiskey?"
Sanderson gestured to the alcohol cabinet and offered to pour a drink. "I'll get it myself," Potentate Forsythe sneered not trusting Sanderson the slightest inch. All it took was a simple slip of the hand and he'd find himself poisoned and dead.
An olive-skinned wizard with a high forehead, raven hair, and sky-colored eyes motions at Sanderson. "I'll have a half-filled chalice, Sanderson," Potentate Lewis, the head of the Welsh isle indicated. The Welsh wizard turned towards a wizard wearing a tilted checkered hat. "And you, Murphy?"
The wizard wearing a tilted checkered hat was pale with slightly flushed skin and a white scruffy beard. "Nah, but I will have some of that fine Firewhiskey that Forsythe is pouring a glass of," Potentate Murphy of Ireland answered. "No offense, Lewis."
"None was taken, Murphy," Potentate Lewis replied with a good-natured shrug, before glancing at a fair-skinned wizard with a 5 o'clock shadow smoking like a chimney. "And you, Jones?'
The (northern) English wizard removed the tobacco pipe from his lips before blowing a circle. "I wouldn't even drink my piss here. There's no telling what might be accidentally slipped," Potentate Jones ominously rasped causing them to all make faces of aversion at the crude mental image.
Potentate Forsythe returns with a glass of whiskey in each hand only pausing to hand the glass over to Potentate. "Well, why have you called upon us, Sanderson? You ain't one of us, traitor."
The room grows chilly as the five other wizards coldly glare at Sanderson, who is innocently sipping his wine. "A fine wine," he replied ignoring the five other Potentates. "Rich in favor, savory, with hints of sweet and sour all in one. Chateau de Foix has always known how to make a good elf-wine."
Setting his silver chalice down on the stand next to him, Sanderson crosses his leg in his seat, before folding his hands and laying them to rest over his knee. "My fellow Potentates, I have summoned you today to ask ye to show a speck of intelligence."
"Wha' iz that supposed to me?" Potentate Forsythe howled. "Are you calling us thick-headed clouts!"
"It is obvious that every single one of your ventures has been hard hit by the Auror's namely the A.P.D." Sanderson arched his brow at them. "A good portion A.P.D. officers are made up of muquibs or former werewolves. They literally can track down anything better than any bloody dog! It's only a matter of time until they truly crack down on the lot of you."
"The Dark Lord has mentioned other ideas," Potentate Newport pointedly interjected. "Now gents, I don't believe in this awful nonsense of blood purity, it's simply bad for business. But the way things are right now, it's not looking too good for the Ministry of Magic with the giants and all."
"Death Eaters, they call themselves," Potentate Forsythe jeered. "As if that would put the fear of the Lord into anyone."
"Dunderheads, the whole lot of them," Potentate Jones firmly agreed fiercely smoking at this pipe like a chimney.
Potentate Murphy adjusted his checkered hat glancing slyly at Sanderson. "Let's be frank, what do you want, Sanderson? You know that we haven't gone and killed you because you went legal, but don't mistake that for weakness. Hurry up and speak clearly and stop wasting all our damn time!"
"Have all of you truly considered the repercussions of the Magical Brain and the Wiz Link?" Sanderson plainly answered.
"What about it?" Potentate Forsythe impatiently snapped.
Before Sanderson had a chance to reply, Potentate Lewis thoughtfully tapped his finger on his thigh and said, "The Magical Brain will enable a network much like the Floo to be established over the whole country. The Wizlink will be this network and the use of artifacts will permit everyone to speak and converse-." The Welch wizard abruptly paused and narrowed his eyes at Sanderson. "The Ministry of Magic will be able to be immediately and discreetly alerted of any crime and in that same breath be summoned."
The rest of the Potentates become silent at the implications as Potentate Lewis continues, "And that is why you became legal Sanderson. It's only a matter of time until one of our men is caught after the Magical Brain and Wiz Link are forged."
"Correct," Sanderson answered omitting the finer details and other reasons for doing so. "And that is why my fellow Potentates, I am humbly requesting reminding the Potentates of the implications. There is plenty of picking for a legal occupation."
"Take Forsythe for example his trade of house elves has plummeted, but if he only invested a bit in educating his stock, he'd make quite the galleon," Sanderson pointed out. "Educated house elves are all the current rage and there is currently a shortage on the market with the high demand. There is a good fortune to be made there."
Potentate Forsythe sneered in revulsion at the suggestion. "House elves have no worth, the pathetic sniveling creatures are useless for anything else. I'd rather cull my entire stock than waste a single knut on them."
Sanderson sips his wine and does not merit a response. The chamber falls silent as each Potentate considers the proposal. The silence is broken by Potentate Newport, "And if we refuse?" He asked causing the air in the room to grow stiff and still.
"I will not raise a single hand against you," Sanderson held up his hand in solemn vow.
The Potentate in the room glances at each other for a moment, before two Potentates rise to their feet. "I ain't falling for your parlor tricks, Sanderson," Potentate Forsythe spat out, before storming out of the room.
"I got nothing but respect for you, Sanderson, but I can't agree to give up on my territory," Potentate Murphy regretfully said. "My men would never allow it," before tipping his checkered hat at the rest of the Potentates and departing from the chamber.
"It's simply business, Sanderson, you understand," Potentate Newport apologized before tipping his silver chalice up in toast and downing the rest of it down, before excusing himself.
The door closes firmly shut after Potentate Newport, when Potentate Jones removes his tobacco pipe from his lips. "So how long until your men kill 'em, Sanderson?"
"Hyde and Floyd have an old grudge to resolve and return to Murphy," Sanderson responded with a wolfish smile. "Their vengeance has been delayed long enough."
"And Forsythe?" Potentate Lewis inquisitively asked. "Although if I hazarded to guess, it would be that sly-eyed second in command of his."
"Makes sense," Potentate Jones murmured, before sticking the tobacco pipe between his yellowed teeth. "Always thought his second in command was far too much of a greedy lot."
Potentate Lewis' sky-blue eyes linger upon Sanderson. "Did you also plan to have us killed, Sanderson?"
"No, the two of you are far more cautious in your dealings," Sanderson honestly admitted. "I would have just handed the information over to the Ministry of Magic and let the dice fall."
"Clever that, not getting your hands dirty," Potentate Lewis murmured, before glancing at the door again. "And what of Newport?"
"Ah, well, Newport would entirely be claimed by Kain Shafiq and Evans Avery," Sanderson innocently shrugged. "The boy, well, young widower I should say became rather ruthless after the death of his French wife." He paused to glance down at his nails once. "And with the Prince trading houses expanding and Kain Shafiq expanding his shipping empire, it was a foregone conclusion, really."
Potentate Jones lets out a loud grunt of disbelief, before shaking his head. "Remind me to never play wizarding chess with ya," he puffed.
Potentate Lewis pensively scratches his chin. "It should be easy enough to become legitimate. My men won't oppose the change. Many of them were already considering leaving with the increase in patrol of the A.P.D. and Auror's. Things weren't able to be moved and we were losing far more than we were earning."
"Same," Potentate Jones grumbled.
"Excellent, I am glad that the two of you were able to see it my way," Sanderson said with a pleased expression. "Now, then my fellow and former Potentates allow me to enlighten you on the methodology of legal businessman."
The two former Potentates Lewis and Jones lean in to listen on how to go about being legal. Oh yes, they would be so legal that even the Ministry of Magic wouldn't be able to find a flaw. However, they were crooks, to begin with, and there is always a loophole to be exploited. And by the end of the night, the two men were enlightened. That and well, Sanderson got exactly what he wanted and was loaned a certain employee with a particularly valuable set of skills.