Miles knows work is going to be crazy when he gets in Saturday morning, so he's not surprised when he's summoned into the leader's office almost immediately after he steps off the lift. Mrs. Morgan is nowhere to be seen, but Mrs. Weasley is for once not working on anything else when he enters.

"Miles, good. As I'm sure you realize, we're in reaction mode. You're with me on addressing the magical populace in regards to this latest breach." She says, all business in a way that makes Miles realize that up to this point the woman may have actually been relaxed. "We knew something like this was coming, we just didn't know what exactly it would look like or when it would come. Or more importantly, how each world would react to it." She sighs. "I assume you read the Prophet this morning?"

He had. He wishes he hadn't, if he's honest, but it's part of his job to be up to date on the news so he reads it cover to cover every morning. "People are demanding trials for anyone who worked in the Ministry during the war." He says dully. He'd honestly been shocked when he'd read that - he knew Muggles were believing Yurina, and could kind of understand it, but the fact magical people, people who actually lived through the war, are falling for it too? That's something that honestly blows his mind a little bit.

"Exactly. So we need to show them that working from the inside wasn't a bad thing, and remind them that most of those people either did the bare minimum, or fought back in their own, small ways. Remind those veterans what it actually was like in the halls of the Ministry before they start condemning everyone who rightfully feared for themselves and loved ones."

There's a vicious conviction in that final sentence, and Miles wonders, if she was a founding member of the Underground, why she seems to relate to the people who didn't do anything. He doesn't say anything though, just nods firmly because regardless of any potential personal stake in things she's right - unless you've lived through a dictatorship based on fear you can't judge the choices of those who have.

"What's the plan?" He asks, and Mrs. Weasley smiles.

"I've called in a few old acquaintances, and we'll be holding an open conference for the magical world in Diagon Alley this afternoon." She says. "Like I said, we've been waiting for this - we want to get our response out immediately, so no one can say we had time to prepare a fake statement or that we're scrambling."

"Why didn't we do this before?" Miles can't help asking as the Undersecretary leads them out of her office and towards the lifts. "I mean, if we knew it was coming, shouldn't we have acted ahead of time to try and cut her off? Now everyone is pissed, and some people will still say we're scrambling."

"We didn't want to tilt our hand." Mrs. Weasley said simply. "We revealed the Underground to all of you so that she wouldn't be able to use it, and then we waited to see what would happen. Let her think she's controlling the narrative, and then snatch it back. That's the goal, anyway. The key today is to not attack Nina - people like her, so we're simply going to show something that she supposedly didn't know about to show that there's more to the story that what she understood." Her smile manages to be both exhausted and vicious. "Let's see her respond to that."

Miles spends the morning mostly following Mrs. Weasley around, taking note of anything she points out as important and helping set up the conference stage in the middle of Diagon Alley, not too far from Prophet HQ so the reporters can't possibly miss it. He sends a couple owls out to confirm that some reporters will be present, and also to tell the Muggle press they're welcome at the magical half of the presentation, but he's learned that the public is their real goal, so they've set the start time for peak Saturday business hours.

A small crowd of people trickles into the area, so steadily that Miles almost doesn't notice the increased number of witches and wizards helping with the set up. When he does finally realize, it's with a bit of a startle - the group now present is huge, and they don't seem to be shoppers - as someone else walks up she heads straight over to Mrs. Weasley as if to check in. So then these must be the people Mrs. Weasley had mentioned would be sharing their stories.

It's... a lot, to actually see the number of people affected by the last war. Knowing something conceptually versus seeing it with his own eyes is a very different experience, and since he'd not grown up in England he supposes he wasn't quite as exposed as his coworkers might have been. The British Wizarding War had been a one-day lecture in third year history, but it had been dry and he'd honestly tuned out most of it. He should probably brush up on his knowledge now that he's living in England and is apparently surrounded by people impacted by the conflict.

Hopefully Mrs. Weasley was serious when she'd said some time earlier that he just has to host things and not know any details, because he's suddenly very aware of how few details he actually has.

When one o'clock rolls around Miles hops up onto the stage and pulls out his wand, pressing it to his throat so that he'll be heard up and down the Alley.

"Attention one and all! A very special conference hosted by the Muggle Integration Initiative will be starting in five minutes! All are welcome, and seats will be provided on request." He beams out at the passers by, hoping that even if he can't contribute much else he might still be able to use his charm to bring in a large crowd.

He does manage to reel in a semi-impressive group of observers, most of whom charm their own seats, and several people pop out of the Prophet offices as well, including Trish who offers him a shy smile and a wave that he enthusiastically returns. Maybe he can sit next to her while he's not introducing people? It would be nice to know at least one of the people around him is a friend.

Mrs. Weasley appears beside him moments later, and he takes a deep breath. Go time.

"Alright, hello everyone! Awesome to see so many people here and willing to hear us out." He says with a bright grin, hoping that's an okay thing to say. Mrs. Weasley's bullet points on what he'd be doing only included names and their order, not what to actually say, and the little Veena in the back of his head is loudly warning him to be very careful about what comes out of his mouth. "I'm sure many of you are aware of the recent interview with one Nina Yamaa, and I know many of you were worried by some of the things she had to say." He nods slightly. "And I can understand that. As someone who wasn't here during the war, hearing what she said honestly scared me. All it takes for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing, as they say. But the thing is, there's a lot more to the story that what Nina proposed. There are two sides to every story, and we'd like to share ours for your consideration, before you make any sweeping judgements on how to feel about all of this. So with that said, I'll pass things over to our esteemed Senior Undersecretary and co-leader of the Initiative, Mrs. Audrey Weasley."

Mrs. Weasley steps forward, offering Miles a smile that helps him relax - he must have said something right, then. He quickly hops off the stage and conjures a seat just in front of it, next to Trish.

"Great opening." She whispers to him, and he beams at her. He's definitely glad she's here, she's always been a calming presence - it's why she's so perfect for her job.

Onstage Mrs. Weasley is explaining the Underground, hitting most of the same points she'd shared with the Initiative, and Miles settles back - he won't be needed again for a while.

He glances around the crowd, trying to gauge what their reactions are to the new information. Most people look amazed, a few are smiling knowingly, and one man looks absolutely outraged. Miles can't help grinning - Zacharias Smith of the Prophet's gossip column is definitely someone he doesn't mind pissing off; frankly, the man deserves it considering how smug he always is at these things.

When Mrs. Weasley finishes speaking, Smith shoots up out of his chair. "So you have been lying! I've been pursuing this stupid group for nearly twenty years and you lied to my face about it not being real!" He accuses angrily.

"Sit down Smith!" Someone in the crowd shouts, and there's a ripple of laughter as the man turns red and drops angrily into his seat.

On the stage, Mrs. Weasley nods. "I did, but you must understand Mr. Smith, this topic is an incredibly delicate one. I only reveal it today because every person who will be speaking has confirmed that they're ready, but there are many others who are not. The Underground worked with the most emotionally and physically devastated people in the last war, and when everything was over we just wanted to hold our surviving loved ones close - fame and glory for our actions was never a concern for our members. We had actively avoided attention for nearly a year, so continuing to do so was almost second-nature by the Battle of the Ministry."

"It was the Underground that coordinated that, wasn't it." Trish whispers, sounding slightly awed. "That's amazing."

"Well, the three ladies running it are pretty much badasses so. That checks out." Miles whispers back, and Trish giggles.

"If there are no further interruptions, then there are a few peole here who were in some way associated with the Underground who are going to share their stories with you, because obviously mine is not the only one. We were a small organization, but every one of us had our own experiences with it. Miles will be introducing the rest, but for the first person I felt it appropriate to introduce her myself."

She smiles, a bit sadly, at a woman standing to the side of the stage. "Mrs. Elstewart, if you're ready?"

The woman who steps onto the stage looks to be in her late fifties, maybe early sixties, and she moves like the weight of the world is resting across her shoulders. She nods to Mrs. Weasley, who conjures a microphone for her. Miles blinks - is this a Muggle? How would she have fit in to any of this?

The woman takes a moment to look at the crowd before she closes her eyes and raises the microphone. "For those of you wondering: I am a witch. I went to Hogwarts as a child, married a wizard, had two magical sons." She takes a breath. "It's just me now. Between the two wars I lost everyone. My husband and infant son in the first, to a Deatheater attack - we were both Muggleborns. After that I moved back with my parents, gave up magic and prepared my remaining son for Hogwarts. I didn't want anyone to know he grew up Muggle, so I told him everything about the magical world. By the age of eleven he could easily talk with the purest of blood witches and wizards without making them suspect a thing. But he also feared the magical world. Maybe I failed him, with that."

She shakes her head slightly. "Whatever the case, what was done was done. He became a healer, after he graduated, and then he ws recruited by the Underground. My name had come up with the Muggleborn Registration Commission." Her eyes, still closed, clech tighter. "He joined on the promise our files would be lost in the system - the war wouldn't touch me, this time. Lucas hid all this from me, at first, but I saw him withering away, putting in more hours than he had to not only work his Mungo's shifts, but also helping the Underground, healing rescued Muggleborns and getting little to no sleep each week." She takes another deep breath. "He worked himself until his body failed him. He died saving other people." She finally opens her eyes, and there are tears at the corners of them. "I dont' think he'd have any regrets about that. He came to love his work with the Underground - when he finally told me what he was doing he had long moved past the point where he felt he had to and was at a point where he wanted to help. But if he hadn't had the initial push, that want to protect me and his grandparents? He would have stayed silent and obedient. He wouldn't have wanted to risk gaining attention from the Deatheaters, for the same reasons he joined the Underground."

She her lips and glances over at Mrs. Weasley, who has her eyes cast down in deference. "That's all I really wanted to say - people have their own motivations, and in a war those can more easily be brought into question. Lucas may have come to terms with what happened, but there isn't a day that goes by that I don't mourn my son."

Miles quickly rises, recognizing that it's time for a transition, which is his role in all of this. He steps back onto the stage instead of hopping - too much apparently glee after that would be a bad look. His mental Veena approves his restraint.

"Thank you for sharing Mrs. Elstewart, that can't have been easy." He says as she leaves the stage. "I'm sure many people suffered losses in that war, and I can only imagine how that feels." He decides that mentioning his own mother's death in a car wreck wouldn't be appropriate - dying in an accident is entirely different from dying in a war scenario. "Our next speaker is Mr. Henry Davies, who is representing both himself and his father."

And that's how the afternoon goes. They hear stories from Mr. Davies, who talks about how his recently deceased, Muggle father ran a safehouse for the Underground while he himself was withering away in the walls of Azkaban. They hear from the former Keeper for the British World Cup Quidditch Team Oliver Wood about his work as a field agent, and how he'd initially been uncertain about joining up since fighting in the war could result in a permanent injury that would stop him from ever flying a broom again.

The stories are varied, and all of them emphasize in some way what they'd had to sacrifice to join the war effort, that it only happened because things lined up perfectly to minimize the risks and maximize the potential rewards.

Mrs. Weasley herself steps up after a Muggleborn named Menna Roy, who spoke about how her step-father (then just a family friend) had sheltered herself and her mother, but refused to do more until an old school friend of his and Menna's mother joined forces to bully him into becoming a safehouse and Central Floo Hub for the Underground.

"As I said before," The Undersecretary begins, "I was a leader of the Underground - at least, I was by the end." She announces, and Miles frowns. This doesn't sound like anything she'd told them before. "But I wasn't originally. I worked for one of the former leaders as an informant and spy, and then I only did it because I had a crush, not because it was 'the right thing to do'." She sighs. "I struggled with that reality for a long time, after the war. During it, too, though there was less time for self-doubt when there was a war going on." She takes a slow breath. "Am I ultimately glad I helped where I could? Certainly, and if I hadn't I know it would likely still haunt me to this day. But at that time, choosing to help was the harder option. I was just lucky no one I cared for was hurt because of it, or I would feel very differently about my decisions today."

Beside him, Trish tenses, and Miles looks over at her with a frown.

"Everything alright?" He whispers, and she looks at him with a sort of miserable determination.

"I'd like to speak too." She replies, quite insistently. It is a request, because Trish isn't rude enough to demand, but it's a very firm one. "I think I can contribute a lot to all this."

Miles tilts his head. "I'll ask." He murmurs back, standing up and hurrying over to Mrs. Weasley before she can start the closing statements for the meeting. "We have one more person who wants to speak - Patricia Poole."

Mrs. Weasley frowns and looks over at Trish, who returns the gaze levelly. After a moment Mrs. Weasley nods. 

"It seems we have one last story for today." She announces. "Ms. Poole, you wanted to share?" 

Trish hops out of her seat and onto the stage, clearly a bit nervous but still quite determined as well. Miles gives her his brightest smile as they pass, and she smiles shyly back.

Soon she's alone on the massive stage, staring out at the crowd that's noticeably increased in size since the conference started - which is of course good for the Initiative, but Miles hopes Trish doesn't have stage fright or this could turn into a disaster.

But she doesn't hesitate, clearing and then holding her wand up to it so her voice will project to the back of the group.

"Hi, I'm Patricia Poole, but I always go by Trish. When I was a kid, I had a whole speech prepared about why I wanted Trish instead of Patricia, but no one ever asked, which was honestly kind of disappointing - eleven year old me had worked hard on that explanation." She grins, and a few people in the audience laugh as well. Her smiles fades slowly as she continues to speak. "But, you know, it was made up. The reason I hated my full name as a kid is because, like so many other people in my generation, I'm named after someone who died in the Second Wizarding War. My Uncle Patrick, specifically. I never knew him, but I hear stories about how he was so brave, and daring, and how he never hesitated to dive headfirst into the war to fight for justice." She's glaring at her feet now. "And I hated it. I hated the weight of expectation that put on me, but what I hated more was how my father always looked so sad when he said my full name. So by the time I was six I was pretty loudly demanding everyone call me 'Trish', because even a six year old knew it was stupid to hold yourself to the standards of others."

She sighs. "Uncle Patrick sounds like an amazing guy, sure. I don't know, I never met him - he was three months in the ground when I was born. What I do know is that the last time my father saw Uncle Patrick they had a fight, and I know my father sometimes regrets that he didn't join the Order with his brother, that he didn't fight in the war at all. But to me, I've never thought he made the wrong choice. Mom was pregnant, and they had just started their private law firm so money was tight - what good would dying have done anybody?" She looks out at the crowd defiantly. "If he had left with Uncle Patrick that day, I wouldn't have a dad - I'd have two figures on pedestals that I'd never get to meet. And frankly, knowing my dad is worth infinitely more to me than knowing of him would ever be. He was needed at home, and I think it's important to remember that our story was a really common one back then - the fact my year at Hogwarts was the largest on record should be testament to that.

"So yeah, I guess that's what I wanted to say." She laughs a bit awkwardly. "It's easy to point fingers at people and say 'you should have done this,' but what's happened has already happened, and trust me, the people who think they should have done more are beating themselves up plenty - you don't have to do it for them." She her lips and awkwardly glances towards Miles, some of her usual shyness returning now that she's finished what she has to say.

Miles starts to get up, but Mrs. Weasley beats him there. There's a sort of smile on her face - something sad and yet warm all the same - as she thanks Trish quietly and directs her back over to the seat next to Miles.

"I dare say that's a thoughtful note to conclude with." She announces. "It's getting rather late now, and we certainly don't wish to monopolize anyone's time. We thank you for your attention, and hope you'll be open to hearing all sides of the story - perhaps including ones we didn't cover today." She smiles out at the crowd. "In fact, as of next week the Initiative will be starting a weekly blog, sharing everybody's stories without judgement or bias, so that we all can become a little more aware and perhaps a little kinder." She nods. "Thank you again for your time."

Some members of the crowd immediately split - several of them head straight for Prophet HQ, which isn't exactly a shock. But a surprising number linger to help clean up and talk with some of the presenters, including Trish.

Miles is kept busy cleaning up for about half an hour before he's released to join the still-mingling crowd as well, and he immediately hunts down his friend, who he finds mid-conversation with an older gentleman who looks vaguely familiar, not that Miles can put a name to him.

"...really is fascinating to consider the angle of what was not lost, over what was." The man is saying. "With war it's so often the latter - and that's no different this time. But if everyone had fought, how can we know what would have happened?"

"In this timeline we won." Trish agrees. "Who knows if that would have stayed true if people had done 'the right thing'? Or if we did, if we would have had enough survivors to rebuild?" She shrugs. "This obsession with focusing on the past and what should have been done... I've never understood it, I guess. We're living in the present, and going into the future, and like, learn from the past, obviously. But at the same time, spending too much time there can be just as dangerous as forgetting it happened at all." She sighs. "I'm not sure my dad has ever really been happy, since then. It killed me when I realized."

Miles isn't sure he should interrupt, but the older man spots him and waves him over.

"I won't take up any more of your time young lady. Thank you again for your insights." He says, almost gravely, and heads away, Apparating as soon as he's clear of the crowd.

Miles watches the spot he was for a moment longer. "So who's your new friend?" He asks, and Trish shrugs.

"He didn't introduce himself, but I swear he looks familiar." She replies. "Maybe some higher up in the Prophet? Or someone we might've had a photo of somewhere." She shrugs. "Doesn't really matter - I'm just glad he liked my off-the-cuff confession. That's absolutely getting back to dad though, and he's probably not going to be thrilled. He always worked really hard to make sure things seemed cheery at home. I don't think my sisters know, at least, so. I was always the observant one - dad was shocked when I was Sorted into Hufflepuff instead of Slytherin, said I'd be a perfect snake."

Miles laughs. "I can't see it, you're way too sweet for that." He decides, and she blushes brightly, eyes flying down and shoulder curling up. Miles just laughs again.

He thinks it may have just been a great day.

Celine of course heads straight to the conference location when it's announced, though she admits she's a little concerned - is the middle of one of the busiest malls on the island really the ideal place for a meeting like this? The place won't only be swarming with reporters, but everyday people as well, and Celine knows first hand that those people are, for the most part, pretty dang irked at magic right now. She has no idea what the Initiative could even say at this point, but they've pulled out miracles before, and with how quickly all this was arranged they obviously do have a plan in place.

She just hopes it works.

Celine arrives early so she can sit at the front, and she immediately notices that Miles is absent - only Veena is perched on the makeshift stage, speaking with the Healer (Caldwell, Celine thinks was her name) that had helped present the Pepperup news, which is an odd choice on the surface - Mrs. Morgan or Mrs. Weasley would make a lot more sense as the second presenter, if Miles can't make it for some reason. But Celine assumes there's a plan - there has to be a plan.

Things kick off normally enough - Veena opens the conference with a few words discussing the recent Yurina (or 'Nina' as they still have to call her publicly) situation and the tension it has caused. Then she calls up Caldwell and steps back, which is an even stranger decision since it makes it clear that Veena isn't even really running this show, just hosting it. Why give a relatively unfamiliar face top billing over Veena?

That question is very quickly answered when Caldwell begins speaking.

"For those of you who have no clue who I am - which is good, I don't like being the center of attention - my name is Audrey Caldwell. My friends call my Python, for reasons we'll get to in a minute, but first I want to talk about my older sister.

"Saundra Caldwell was a lot of things, but the biggest of those was way too eager to help, and there's not been a day in the last twenty years I haven't cursed her for it. My sister has been dead and buried for twenty years now, because she did the so-called right thing. She died for that cause, and that's great for some people. But if I can be very candid for a moment,  her."

It's said with the sort of raw venom that only comes out when you're speaking for something or someone you truly care about, and Celine almost physically flinches back at the force of the vehemence in Caldwell's tone. She notices in her peripheral that some people do wince, which she can't fault them for. Celine has experienced grief before, through her mother, but this one is laced with anger in a way that's almost scary.

Caldwell strikes Celine as the type of person to never do anything without thinking it through, so presumably the intensity was intentional despite the fact she proceeds with her speech normally enough. "I love my sister, but I can tell you one thing: if I could go back and stop her from being a self-sacrificing idiot I'd do it. Don't get me wrong, she saved lives, and I'm proud of her, but she went too far when she decided to give up her life ine exchange for a maybe. That might have been a noble thing to do by society's standards, but it was pretty selfish from where I'm standing. I lost my sister - I don't have any family left, now, because of that." She shakes her head.

"But with that context cleared up let me tell you what it was Saundra gave her life for."

And that's when Caldwell launches into an explanation of the Underground, simultaneously showing why she's the one taking point in all this. Celine is genuinely shocked by the revelation - and she vaguely recalls Mrs. Weasley outright denying an accusation of this sort of group existing in the New Year's conference so maybe that's another reason she's not here - and she scrambles to take notes on every detail Caldwell gives. A secret organization working together with no desire for recognition saving dozens of innocent lives? That might just be enough to ease some of the anger buzzing around today. This is an excellent plan.

Though she does get why Caldwell opened with her anger at her sister - if she'd shared it after the Underground reveal, most people would probably have thought her heartless for being upset with her sister over dying to protect such an amazing group. As it stands, Celine still understands why Caldwell is angry - though maybe she'll raise the question about it, since it's inevitable someone will want to call the woman out and Celine figure something like that should be handled with a little more nuance than some of her fellow reporters have.

But questions aren't opened - instead, Caldwell announces that they have  a few more people who will be sharing their stories about the war in order to showcase a wider range of perspectives and Veena moves back up to start introducing people.

First up is a woman who's introduced as the Head of the Improper Use of Magic Offices - Odette Grimmond.

"Sorry in advance for not being quite as eloquent as Healer Caldwell - I'm usually behind a desk and honestly don't talk to groups this big, well, ever." The woman says, chuckling nervously. A few people in the crowd laugh lightly as well, and Grimmond visibly, though only slightly, relaxes. "Right, well, I guess I'll start by saying I wasn't actually saved by the Underground or anything, at least not until everything was already over. I'm a Muggleborn, and I was lucky enough to have a friend who heard about the Muggleborn Registration Commission and warn me to run before they could put me on a mock trial and send me to Azkaban." She frowns and looks over at Caldwell and Veena. "Um, do they know about...?" She trails off.

"Nope!" Someone in the audience shouts, though thankfully it seems good-natured, and Odette smiles awkwardly.

"Right, I guess I can explain it a bit? Like I said, I ran away before I could be taken in, but from what I heard the Commission was a group created by the Deatheater-run Ministry in charge of rounding up all Muggleborns and basically putting them in jail for existing. Maybe someone else can give more exact details, but what they did was summon Muggleborn witches and wizards and convict them - without any evidence - of having stolen their magic from 'real' witches and wizards. Their wands were taken, broken, and they were sentenced to life in Azkaban, which is the British Wizarding Prison. At that time it was an absolute nightmare, and a lot of people didn't survive their months there. Some lived but lost their sanity - they're now in the longterm ward at St. Mungo's, unable to take care of themselves or recognize their surroundings." She shudders. "I guess in some ways, I was lucky.

"I went on the run. I was what we now call a Fugitive, someone who camped in the woods and ran away from Deatheaters - specifically the Snatchers, which was a Ministry group dedicated specifically to hunting down people who ran away from their trials, like I did. The group was created and led by a Deatheater, of course, though they hired anyone who applied. I spent eight months in the woods. I had no idea how to survive in the woods, but we didn't have an option - staying too close to towns drastically increased your chances of being caught, and especially once the Snatchers were involved you usually didn't get a trial at that point - you were either carted straight to Azkaban or killed on the spot." She swallows hard. "Muggleborns had the highest casualty rates in the war. But I can tell you confidently that without the Underground? They would have been higher. But without the Snatchers - the Deatheater run Snatchers, I'd like to emphasize - they would have been lower. So even if Nina really thinks the Deatheaters were just trying to fit in and do what they thought was best, that best got innocent people killed. Wanting to fit in has a limit."

Veena returns to the front, thanking Grimmond for her story. Celine thinks that it was good - learning about that Commission definitely adds a new angle - but the comments at the end are definitely going to piss some hardcore Nina fans off. Hopefully the other speakers (Celine has now spotted a cluster of people standing beside the stage, obviously waiting their turn) stay a bit more neutral in their declarations.

The next presenters are a pair of siblings, Channer Lindberg and his sister Adeline. Adeline does most of the talking, sharing her experience as a safehouse operator for the Underground and her repeated failed attempts to recruit her brother despite knowing he was bad at keeping secrets.

"I just wanted him to do the right thing - to not look back on any of this with regrets." She laughs a bit hollowly. "That didn't turn out so well. My pestering ended up causing both our biggest regrets in the war. If I could go back, I would have stopped the first time he said no."

"I'm terrible at lying, in case you're wondering why I didn't want to join a top-secret organization that relied on lying to stay hidden." Channer supplies, a bit wryly. "I knew I could never keep the secret, and beyond that I didn't want the stress of it. My department was generally removed from what the Deatheaters were doing, so I just wanted to keep my head down and not cause any trouble. I started blocking my own memories of what Adeline was telling me, but stacking too many charms can result in catastrophic backlash - I'm lucky I had no lasting mental damage from it."

Adeline winces beside him, but Channer continues, either unaware or unaffected. Celine would bet on the latter - Adeline said herself the entire stituation is a major regret of hers.

"So the spells failed and there I was with a massive secret and the head of the Snatchers and a top Deatheater nosing around my department because she was... bored, I guess? I honestly don't know. Her name was Yurina, and she was basically the most feared person in the entire Ministry during those months. Needless to say, she caught on to my twitching pretty damn quick, and I found the information dragged out of me within hours. After that I was sent to Azkaban for the rest of the war, and Adeline and the people she was housing were forced to run. I'm just thankful I was the only one hurt in all of that."

Adeline is staring miserably at her feet. "I didn't work there, in the Ministry. I still don't." She says. "I didn't understand what the environment was like, and I didn't realize until after the leak that it was because I wasn't surrounded by Deatheaters that it seemed so easy to help out. Working in the heart of the Ministry - you never knew who you could actually trust, and when you're holding a secret like the Underground that fear only grows. We learned after the war that a woman who was rather highly regarded in the Ministry even before the takeover was actually a mole who helped Voldemort take over the Ministry from the inside out." She shudders. "Who knows if she was the only one? I can't imagine working in an environment like that."

"Not fun." Channer supplies dryly, and that gets a few laughs. The two wrap up and Veena brings up the next person.

The afternoon goes on like this, with stories from field agents, Ministry workers, and people caught in between. One particularly interesting tale comes from an older gentleman named Aiden Case, who explains that if not for his adopted son he likely would have gone into hiding and avoided the war entirely until it was over. Instead he helped the Underground, though he admits to being terrified of what could happen to his son if he was caught the entire time. He says he still has nightmares about it.

Celine always knew war was bad, conceptually, but hearing the stories today, raw and emotional despite the two decade gap since their occurrence, drives home the concept of "you can't know what you would do until you're in a situation" in a very visceral way.

About two hours - and several more stories - later, Veena steps up again, glancing nervously over at the group to the side of the stage.

"We did have one more person who wanted to speak, but it seems he-"

"Is here!" Someone shouts, and two figures hurry into view, seemingly from nowhere. The one who had spoken - the woman in the pair - waves excitedly. "Sorry, we made it. Had to fly since neither of us had been here before." She shoves the man up towards the stage. "We're ready."

The two are probably the same age as Caldwell, and the man swinging himself onto the stage looks a lot less enthusiatic about this than the woman does, but he nods to Veena's uncertain look and the Initiative representative clears and turns back to the crowd with an awkward smile.

"Well then, we have one final speaker today before we take a few questions, which myself and Healer Caldwell will be addressing. In the spirit of honesty, and hearing every side of the story, I'd like to introduce Max Rosier." She smiles, a bit strained. "I'll allow him to tell you more about himself."

Max takes center stage, and then takes a deep breath.

"Right then." He starts. "I guess I'll just say the bad part right away - I worked as a Snatcher for almost the entirety of the war. Hunted down Muggleborns and brought them back to face trial. I thought I was doing the right thing." He shakes his head. "Obviously that was completely incorrect, and I actually went on to marry a Muggleborn - she's most wonderful woman in the world, and one of the strongest people I've ever met.

"But that isn't the point. The point is that when I was thirty years old I interviewed for a job that was basically hunting down innocent people to be tortured and killed. I didn't see it like that then, of course - I thought there was legitimacy to the claims that Muggles could steal magic, and that's where Squibs came from. It seemed logical to me, having been raised by Deatheater sympathizers and having never really questioned why there were Squibs and Muggleborns growing up. It seemed like a good opportunity, a chance for me to get the 'real job' my parents were always nagging me about.

"I think I only really questioned it when one of our raids went sideways. A Fugitive we'd been sent out after had set a trap for us, and we walked right into it. Most of my team was knocked out, but I was just frozen in place, so I saw her. She grabbed food, clothes, some pamphlets - to start a fire with I guess. And when she was done she came over to me and apologized." He shakes his head. "I couldn't believe that. She apologized and she set me to thaw out so that I could revive my teammates. That was the moment I started wondering if any of it was really okay." He sighs. "I think that's when I started realizing that these were people. A big part of training was dehumanizing the Muggleborns, calling them Mudbloods and saying they were lesser than us and were threatening to oppress all magic."

He laughs bitterly. "And yet we were the oppressors. Nina got one thing right - we didn't want to be hidden anymore. No, we wanted to rule the world, and that meant taking out any Muggles who opposed us and subjugating the rest. Muggles were lesser - magic is might."

Celine takes note of how many of the other speakers - mostly the ones who'd been working in the Ministry - shudder at those three words.

She scrawls Magic is Might meaning? into her notes.

"But yeah, that's my story. As someone who was a Deatheater, the Deatheaters really didn't have the right attitude when they approached this whole integration thing twenty years ago, if you can even call it that. Personally I'd label it oppression and genocide. And if she was really here twenty years ago, which I know she was because I worked with her, 'Nina' knows that, and she agrees with it. Food for thought."

The entire crowd has gone rigid, and Veena's face is so carefully neutral that Celine is confident she's absolutely panicking internally - the only time the woman isn't smiling is if she's freaking out. Max had obviously not been supposed to say that, and Celine can see why - revealing that the world's beloved 'Nina' is actually pro-genocide is going to go one of two ways: super well, or horrifically. Yurina has very successfully endeared herself to the public - this accusation could single-handedly turn everyone against the Initiative and entirely end any chance at cooperation.

Onstage Max is either unaware of or uncaring of the impact he'd just made. "So yeah, that's what I've got." He declares. "Moral of the story, always check your sources - in the long run it's less painful to admit you're wrong in the moment than to deceive yourself so thoroughly you end up in prison for the rest of your life - I know a lot of people who ended up there after their Snatching careers were ended." He frowns. "Know even more who are dead, actually. So yeah. Nice talking to you all."

He hops off the stage and the crowd parts like the Red Sea to let him pass. It would be funny if Celine's heart wasn't still running laps around her entire intestinal system out of sheer terror of what the fallout is going to be.

Veena returns to the stage, smile plastered back on and clearly hoping to get things back under control quickly. "Well, that was certainly an explosive final story! We wanted to give every side a chance to be heard, and we'll be continuing with that for the next few months! We want to hear your stories, and we'll be sharing them in a new weekly blog that I'll be writing so that everyone gets a chance to learn about every side of this conflict. And we want to hear from you all too! This blog is a chance for us to learn alongside everyone about all the different people and perspectives inside and outside of our communities." She smiles, bracingly, and adds. "And with that said, we're now open to take any questions."

"Did you know that Nina was part of the Deatheaters?" Someone shouts immediately, and that is actually a shockingly unvitriolic question on the topic - whoever just yelled is taking the truth about Yurina and rolling with it instead of defending his views on her.

Veena takes a deep breath, but one of the speakers from earlier raises her hand. Celine remembers her as Evie Selwyn, a Muggleborn who, along with her Pureblood husband, had run a safehouse for the Underground.

"I can answer that one, if that's cool with you? I know you were supposed to handle this part, but I am married to a Wizengamot secretary." She offers with a cheeky grin.

Veena glances uncertainly over at Caldwell, who has a look of genuine amusement on her face. Veena nods. "That's alright, if you don't mind." She agrees, and Evie jumps back up onto the stage.

"Right, well, first of all the thing with magic is that it's possible to look like someone you aren't. And the thing with biology is sometimes two people looks super similar but aren't related at all. And the thing with age is we all look a bit different after twenty years." She pokes her own face. "Unfortunately!" She jokes, and the crowd laughs. Evie is effortlessly likable, and Celine thinks that the combination of the unaccusatory question and Evie answering it may just be the diffuser the situation needs.

"So yeah, we couldn't move in on a public figure who seemed to want to work towards integration and cooperation until we knew for sure! MACUSA - that's the American version of the Ministry here - has been keeping tabs on her as well as they can, but she's pretty slippery, which doesn't have to mean anything, you know? Magical people are used to having to hide after all, it's kind of second nature for some of us! So it's been a long process of working out if she is who she says she is, or if she really is, you know, who we thought she might be. We also, you know, didn't want to scare her off if she was." She rubs at the back of her neck with a wry grin. "Ah well. Anyway, that's the long and short of it as I've picked up from my husband talking about work. I hope it answers the question?"

The man who had posed the initial inquiry nods, and Celine finally gets a proper look at him. He's young, maybe even younger than her, and she definitely hasn't seen hiim at any of these events before, despite the BBC press tag around his neck. She should keep an eye out for him in the future - he asks good questions and might be open to collaborating on an Initiative story some time.

She puts her hand up when questions are opened again, and Veena calls on her with a slightly relieved smile.

"This one is for Healer Caldwell, actually." Celine says, flipping back to the start of her notes.

Despite the potential setback of Max, things seem to run smoothly enough after that. Caldwell explains that even when Saundra decided to sacrifice herself for the Underground there were other alternatives present, and Veena answers a few questions on the war and its impact on Muggleborns and their treatment in the magical world. There's definitely still tension though - Celine can see a group glaring along the edge of the crowd, and she's glad she can also see a few Hunters obviously serving as security.

They may have avoided immediate disaster, but Celine can tell this is far from over - she just hopes nothing else drastic happens that could snap what little balance they have left.

Edward honestly has no idea what to expect when he's called into his bosses' office at the crack of dawn a few days after the Initiative's response conferences to Yurina. He's been keeping a low profile, and the two conferences actually seem to have gone well - people may not be on their side yet, but more are staying on the fence than Yurina was probably expecting after her last major bombshell. So he really isn't sure why the Agency needs to see him so badly, considering he has literally nothing to report. It certainly doesn't help that he's been unable to do much recon recently thanks to the combination of the ongoing Internal Investigation and the Hunter leaders watching him more closely lately as well. He supposes he could talk about the lovely afternoon tea he'd had with Mrs. Weston recently in his quest to gain access to the maintenance tunnels, but he doubts they'd be much interested in her grandchildren accidentally exploding plates with their uncontrolled magic when they're angry.

Jen and Kevin meet him at the doors, both as bleary-eyed as he is.

"What's all this then?" Kevin grumbles. "I barely get any sleep as it is, so it better be good."

"I'm as clueless as you." Edward sighs. "Trust me, I'd rather be asleep. This one has nothing to do with me."

Jen frowns. "If it's not on our side though, does that mean something went wrong on theirs? Because I think that might be worse." She says, voice softer than normal, and Edward and Kevin exchange a worried glace - she's definitely correct on that count.

The three of them walk quietly through the halls of the agency - which are still bustling with activity despite the early hour - and Edward knocks on the door when they arrive.

It opens immediately, which never happens and is honestly making Edward even more uneasy than he already was - making agents wait is one of the bosses' favorite power plays, so the fact it's being scrapped right now has rather foreboding implications.

"You summoned us?" Edward asks once the three of them are inside and the door has been slammed shut again. He swears, if they ask him for a progress report about the recent leak he's going to cuss them out, probable demotion be damned.

However, for once they don't seem interested in formalities, or hearing from the team at all. "There's been a new development with one of our allies." One of the men says, and Edward's stomach drops. So it is on their side.

.

"The United Arab Emirates just received word that a small military base was attacked by a team of witches and wizards. There were no survivors."

Double .

Edward doesn't say anything, remaining tense and at attention as he waits for the rest, because there's no way they were called in here just for one sentence. There's more, and it's bound to be worse.

"Everyone was trapped inside the base and burned to death." His boss's voice is grave. "Now to be clear, this group was working on an attack again the U.A.E.'s version of the Initiative - supposedly without governmental support - but this is going too far. If the magical world knew about the plans, they should have reported it, not resorted to this. Supposedly the fact there was anything to find was no small miracle - they had to get the cadaver dogs out before they found much of anything. Luckily there was a storage room in the basement that housed enough to put the pieces together." The man leans forward, hands steepled like a cliche cartoon villian. "We cannot sit back and ignore this level of attack, no matter how justified magical people may think it to be. The governments that have been made aware of the situation have agreed to keep it out of the public eye for the time being, but make no mistake, this is an act of war by the witches and wizards of the world."

Edward frowns. That's a bit much, in his opinion, but he bites his tongue and waits to be acknowledged before speaking.

"With all this now a concern, you need to be ready to be pulled out. I never liked putting you alone in a room full of magicians, but this is officially too much. The moment you sense anything amiss, I want you out of that Ministry."

And that's enough to make Edward snap. "Excuse me? As the person actually in the Ministry, I think I'd know a lot better than you do if it's safe or not." He says hotly. "If you took a minute to actually look at the facts, and everything I've reported in these past months, then you'd know this attack was almost certainly perpetrated by Yurina's network in order to retaliate for our Initiative's successful counter to her tell-all interview. No station on Earth is playing her claims without putting our guys right nex to them - people are asking questions, are starting to doubt Yurina, so it really only makes sense that she'd try to activate the war now when she still has the US President's ear and some continued public support. This is us pushing her to move - and this is when she's going to trip up and make a mistake somewhere. If I'm not there to catch it, who will be? I've kept a closer eye on the group than anyone else - I'll know if something is off, even if no one else does. Now isn't the time to run and hide, now is the time to stand up against this and not let her win. I don't care if she's had twenty years to plan this, I refuse to be a pawn in her game. And if that means you fire me and I become a Hunter full-time, then so be it. I won't watch the world burn for the egos of people in power."

He honestly expects his boss to immediately fire him, so the stony silence that settles around the room very rapidly becomes suffocating. He isn't quite sure where the outburst came from, but he doesn't regret saying it - nor is he kidding about letting this job go if he has to. The safety of the world outranks anything else - that's part of the job, and he's nothing if not damn good at this job.

The silence lasts a heartbeat and an eternity, but finally one of the three men speaks.

"I'm surprised to hear you so vehemently defending them. If you feel this strongly, then I agree we will defer to your understanding of the situation. War is not good for anyone, especially not if it goes nuclear which one like this just might. Keep up informed of the internal situation. You are dismissed."

Edward doesn't start breathing again until they're out of the building.

"Christ in a cracker barrel Ed, that was something else." Kevin says, sounding slightly awed. "I've wanted to go off on those asshats ever since we met them, but I never thought anyone could actually get away with doing it without total career suicide. Respect."

"Major respect." Jen agrees solemnly. "So now that you've figured out which side your on, how can we help?"

Edward thinks for a moment, and then slowly starts to smile.

"Nothing for right now, but let me get back to you - I need to arrange some tea."

He thinks Mrs. Weston might just be willing to give him that tunnel access now - and he knows just how he wants to use it.

Author's Note: And we're back! A lot happened in this chapter, and this is only the tip of the iceberg. Has the crew really cracked Yurina's confidence, or are they playing right into her hands? Only time will tell! See you all on Saturday~