Taking a deep breath, Minister Jenkins knew it was now or never. With a steady expression, she transitions into the next portion of her plan., "Mere weeks ago, my people and I found ourselves subjected once again to the madness of a powerful dark wizard known by many names, the Dark Lord, Voldemort, and at birth as Tom Marvolo Riddle."
"Mr. Riddle not only wickedly framed a fellow student for the vile murder of another student during his time at Hogwarts, but almost committed various other murders as a young man including the death of his muggle father and grandparents and that of his wizard grandfather. Needless to say, there are the least of his crimes," Minister Jenkins emphatically said.
Various faces across the delegation furrow in apprehension even the most stoic of critics are rattled by Minister Jenkins' words. Murder is one thing. However, committing said crimes as a student and then framing others speaks volumes of the violent criminal character Riddle possessed. At least, Grindelwald never hid his crimes nor maliciously framed others…(Though that point was arguable.)
"Yet far from being sufficient, Riddle gathered likeminded allies that have only served to cause death and destruction in their wretched wake," Minister Jenkins' eyes firmly moved over the delegation staring them straight in the eye. "I have personally witnessed the atrocities and tragedies that have befallen the wizards and witches of the isles. Yet in the face of such evil, brave men and women have risen and given their very lives for the sake of others including Potion Master Damocles Belby."
The air in the Great Hall is still and solemn at the pointed reminder. The cure of lycanthropy had benefited every ruling Ministry of Magic as they gained a larger population of taxpayers. The Potions Guilds of the world still mourned the loss of the genius potion master, Damocles Belby. Not only that but as did all of their citizens who were former werewolves, they all demanded that the culprit be brought to justice. Even now every single Ministry of Magic in the world receives at least a dozen letters per month demanding the death of Damocles Belby be avenged. The masses refused to be appeased until the murderer of Damocles Belby was caught.
"I can no longer stand by and continue to watch as countless more men, women, and children are slaughtered at the wretched hands of Riddle and his Death Eaters," Minister Jenkins took a step forward in emphasis. "Today, I stand before the greatest gathering of witches and wizards on the Earth to plead our case and request a change for the betterment of our world."
Some of the witches and wizards of the delegation appear to be moved. Though most of the delegation appears to show no emotion as a ploy to remain neutral or simply are not moved at all. It was a fine speech, but they were all old foxes. Minister Jenkins had played the game well, but finally, it was time for her to show her hand.
The only sound for a moment is the scratching of quills as various Quick-Quotes Quills take note. Idris Shafiq, being the speaker for the Confederation rises to his feet. "What would Minister Jenkins request or have the Confederation do to resolve the matter?
Minister Jenkins takes a deep breath as she knows what she is about to say will be seen as radical rather than revolutionary. "Though we have suffered grave losses, our losses have been greatly mitigated by the alliances we have formed with the goblins, hags, and trolls."
"Today we have all witnessed the success of such an alliance not just limited to battle but also in wizarding society. The creation of the artifacts themselves is proof that working together in alliance that such an alliance still has much to offer to the whole of wizarding society," Minister Jenkins skillfully persuaded.
"As such, the British Ministry of Magic requests a fundamental revision of magical law in order to propose the permeant creation of the Magical Interoperation Department (M.I.D.) and to permit magical beings to serve within the confines of magical society and thereby directly address the wand ban of 1631 by the Wizard's Council."
There was silence for a brief moment before all hell broke loose. Witches and wizards loudly broke into voices and pointed at Minister Jenkins in utter anger and appalment at the sheer suggestion. Even those considered progressives on the Council were shocked out of their minds. They would never in a hundred years ever grant a goblin a wand!
Everyone remembered the goblin rebellions in their native countries. It wasn't as if the Isles were an exception. There were several bloody rebellions in Britain since the Founder's time. Among them to name a few is the infamous 1612 rebellion in Hogsmeade, another in 1752, or the most recent rebellion in 1890!
Several members of the Southern European Delegation pointedly turned to glance at Phillipe Verninac, who agitatedly ran his hand through his tousled sun-streaked curly hair. His elegant features were scrunched into a frown, while his brightly colored eyes showed a certain level of frigid chilliness. He should have known better than to trust Reginald Prince.
"I call the confederation to order," Idris Shafiq's voice roared as he had cast "Sonorus," to make his voice louder.
The Great Hall quiets down as Idris Shafiq removes the spell and returns to his normal tone of voice. Turning to sternly stare at the stout witch, he says, "Minister Jenkins although your intentions are without a doubt good, they are far from sufficient to overturn the wand ban. The memories of wizardkind and goblins are equally long. Throughout the centuries wizardkind and goblins have been at war with each other. Indeed, we have been mostly at peace for the past century, but there is no guarantee of a lifetime of peace. And no Ministry of Magic will accept an employee they cannot trust and is capable of certain betrayal."
"I cannot argue with your words, Speaker Shafiq," Minister Jenkins nodded her head in argument causing many members of the delegation to arch their brows and show expressions of surprise or the narrowing of eyes in skepticism.
"Yet here I stand today," Minister Jenkins firmly said, "and it would not be possible without the aid of the goblins, hags, and trolls. I recognize and acknowledge the fears of the confederation, the history of our kind is fraught with war and betrayal. Yet despite all of the turmoil between us, we continue to peacefully coexist. The goblins for hundreds of years have run our financial institutions, and we in turn trust them to manage the finances of the wizarding world."
The delegation members glance at each other, some in agreement, others in disagreement. Abruptly a beautiful traditional round Chinese wooden paddle fan is raised in the air. Seeing the movement, the delegation turns to face an elderly witch with silky white hair pulled back in a high bun. Underneath the outer robes of the delegation, the witch's underjacket is red with an inner jacket the color auburn. Her floor-length blue skirt is embroidered with delicate golden threads., While her headpiece with countless delicate intricate jeweled ornaments showcases her high status.
Chen Bao glances at the speaker causing her headpiece to musically twinkle. Seeing her glance, the speaker, Idris Shafiq signals that that she has the floor to speak. With care, she set the beautiful embroidered, wooden round paddle fan on the table before her.
Raising her almond eyes, Chen Bao coolly speaks in an accented English voice. "Ye speak of peace, Minister Jenkins. How can there ever truly be peace when the yāo (goblin/supernatural creature) are treacherous to the core? The yāo never act out of the kindness of their heart unless there is something to be gained. For the yāo respect nothing, and an alliance requires mutual respect."
Many heads in the delegation gesture in silent agreement including Phillipe Verninac. He could not deny the goblins could be worthwhile allies. However, the goblins only respected their own self-interests. They could always be persuaded away by a better deal. And that did not make for a staunch worthy ally.
"I shan't pretend to argue otherwise, Delegate Chen Bao," Minister Jenkins calmly retorted. "Yet if the goblins were capable of keeping the peace, and we in turn were capable of trusting them. Would it not usher in the beginning of a new era?"
The thin, dark, shallow-skinned Mr. Krum sat up in his seat. His large, curved nose wrinkles as his thick black eyebrows bend in anger. "Take heed, Minister Jenkins, your last statement rings of Grindelwald," he hissed in a thick Bulgarian accent.
Instantly many of the faces of the delegation darkened. There were very few members in the confederation who had not been affected by the actions of Grindelwald and his allies in some form or another. There were no tolerances for any rhetoric that resembled that of Grindelwald.
"I can assure the Federation that is not my intent at all, Delegate Krum," Minister Jenkins vehemently vowed, before pointedly glancing back at Dumbledore.
Seeing a firm head nod in her direction, Minister Jenkins resigns herself to continue to address the confederation. "Today, we stand at Hogwarts founded a thousand years by four of the greatest wizards and witches, Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin. It is only fitting that they have a say."
Many of the delegates appear confused except for a few. Primarily those in the know, and Chepi, who had not once removed her eyes from an empty corner of the Great Hall. She could sense the great power barely suppressed. The air stirred with might, yet none seemed to truly notice except for her and one other.
Chepi turned her pale white head as her pale eyes met the dark eyes of a wizard who was dark and wrinkled like a raisin, Obi Adebayo. He was surprisingly tall despite his age but still hunched over with age. His salt-peppered hair is cut short with a soft tan hat made of velvet and embroidered (aso oke hat) on his head. Beneath his delegation robes is a white tunic, his feet are bare and calloused except for a pair of worn sandals. Yet hanging around his neck are long chains of a white beaded necklace made from the bones of a Nundu.
In his land (western Africa/Nigeria), Obi Adebayo was considered a wiseman by muggles, and a great shaman by the wizards and witches of his land. Though he held a wand, he still practiced the old ways. He was one of the few who still did. The old ways were rapidly fading and one day would be gone as the younger generation held no interest in them.
Yet Obi Adebayo occasionally came upon an exceptionally talented youngling. He bowed his head in the direction of the young witch of the people of the west, Chepi. The two returned their gaze to the corner of the Great Hall paying minimal heed to the various whispers in the hall.