House of Cards | Harper

Friday, August 13, 1920
Following A Meeting of the Wizengamot

A meeting about the latest bit of legislation, scheduled, no doubt, to bore half the Wizengamot into early retirement, had dragged on far past the point of polite endurance. Still, James Laurence made a habit of never missing a beat; his presence was as much a given as the insufferable scent of Ministry lapdogs. After the embarrassing and undignified crumbling of the previous administration and the unceremonious placing of a relative nobody in the seat of Minister, James saw it as his personal duty to ensure that his family’s interests were guarded. If not by the system, then by himself.

Merrow, while not a complete bleeding heart - for his unabashed misogyny was well and far-acknowledged - was far too concerned with the idea of noble actions and upholding some self-inflicted moral compass. It was almost humorous, watching the man contort himself into the semblance of a statesman, straining against his own solitary, battle-hardened nature to play the puppet in a show his supporters insisted he perform.

It was only apparent by the mediocrity of some of the people he'd appointed to this fucking body. The Minister was spectacularly out of his depth.

"Miss Knightley." James rounded the length of the conference table as the Minister and others began filing out of the room, a half-smile cracking across his lips. Merrow had a new assistant. Word was that he'd sent the former - Elizabeth - home in tears one day over her perceived ineptness, and in her sorrowful place had sat Harper Knightley, an up-and-comer from the Magical Affairs office.

An interesting choice.

"Congratulations on your unexpected appointment," he said casually, shoving his hands into the pockets of his trousers. "Seems a bit of a downgrade though," his smile widened, his voice steady and casual. He glanced over his shoulder, ensuring the others were all out of earshot. "Climbing the MoA ladder just to wind up a secretary." He tsked, and gave her a quick up and down, while his eyes twinkled with amusement.

"Surely you're aiming higher?"

Harper had decided to apply as member of the Wizengamot alongside her new position as secretary to the Minister of Magic, killing two birds with one stone.

Get as close to the very top as possible and simultaneously snake her way into parliament to become an actual working part of legislation and jurisdiction.

The change of administration a few months back and the ousting of many members alongside it had been just the right amount of disturbance and chaos she had been hoping for to get a foot in the door. It had created plenty of room and desperation for replacement that someone like her was able to snatch a seat. Like skipping a few steps. Years of relentless work she would have had to endure to receive promotions and positions higher and higher in order to get a chance at what she had now accomplished with little work at all.

Frankly, what had happened had disgusted her. To learn what had been planned and had almost been successful at that.

Muggles and Wizards lived in separation for many good reasons and the former's inferiority would be number one on her list.

As such, Harper indeed had an honest desire to right what had been harmed but there was no denying that this was a steppingstone nonetheless, to get her where she aimed to be, what she aimed to achieve.

With a wave of her wand her papers neatly stacked themselves into an orderly pile and fluttered into her leather briefcase when someone approached.

"Miss Knightley."

Her head turned to find James Laurence rounding the table and coming to a halt next to her. "Mr. Laurence," she acknowledged with a dip of her chin and an expectant expression.

"Congratulations on your unexpected appointment. Seems a bit of a downgrade though."

Her brows rose and his smile widened to something almost mischievous, boyish. Had he approached just to let her know his opinion on her career path? To mock her, belittle her?

Harper didn't say anything, he clearly wasn't done yet.

"Climbing the MoA ladder just to wind up a secretary. Surely you're aiming higher?"

A sly smile tucked at her lips and she chuckled softly as a beat passed in which she regarded the man across. "Wouldn't you say the personal secretary to the Minster is much closer to the real happenings than a Public Relations Official ever could?", she asked amusedly, reaching to pick up her briefcase laying ready on the table but still keeping her eyes on him.

"I always aim high, Mr. Laurence," she added casually. "And I believe I achieved that. I am a member of the same parliament as you after all." It wasn't like there was no room to rise even higher either. She had joined the Wizengamot only recently. With time and more work she could make a real name for herself.

"Wouldn't you say the personal secretary to the Minster is much closer to the real happenings than a Public Relations Official ever could?"

James's smile widened as he leaned slightly against the table, studying her expression as she spoke. This was his sport - throwing a little curveball and waiting for the reaction behind it. He found that people often told on themselves in the way they managed his approaches. Harper Knightley, expectantly, didn't seem easily shaken.

Good. He was hoping as much.

"I always aim high, Mr. Laurence. And I believe I achieved that. I am a member of the same parliament as you after all."

He raised his hands up good-naturedly, offering a slight laugh. "Touché. That you have." She made a good point after all. PR was about the spin, and how one was ordered to handle it. A spot as the personal secretary certainly offered her a little more insight into the inner workings of arguably the most powerful seat in the country, and having secured herself a place on the Wizengamot - it was impressive.

Even if Merrow was of the mind to source from all walks of life.

James angled his head, pursing his lips in thought for a moment. "The Wizengamot, for all its grandeur and prestige, really is a lot of smoke and mirrors," he said lightly with a shrug, "A lot of showmanship, yelling, arguing. And yet, in the end everyone still votes exactly the way you expected them to." Too many of their body were easily bought - James knew, having bought plenty of them well before his own appointment. Men were disappointingly simple creatures, falling easily to bribes and the illusion of having a powerful family in their corner.

His smile returned. "How about you, Miss Knightley? Are you as predictable as the rest of them?"

Or dare he hope she had a little more ambition tucked beneath that composure?

Straightening, Harper slid her briefcase off the table to hold it in front of herself with both hands, resting against her thighs. James' gaze was like fixed to her as she spoke, but there was nothing soft to it. Just pure calculation. His smile -- if not unfriendly -- sharped at its edges.

He held himself like a man that got what he wanted, that knew how to get it. Harper was sure he understood how to pull the strings to let things fall in exactly the place he wanted them to. Either by charm or other means. The Laurence family was as esteemed as it was for reasons.

Moral or not.

"Touché. That you have."

She smiled a little wider, head faintly tilted sideways and scrunching her eyes in silent agreement. Obviously she would never be in any position as advantageous as him. Although her family was well established itself, wealthy and respected amongst higher wizarding society, it was still halfblood, nouveau riche and held no power like the Laurences did.

But despite this, Harper knew what she had achieved and what she still aimed to claim. Hard, dedicated work and the right decisions made at the right time had brought her here. It might be amusing or dismissible to someone like James Laurence who needn't do any of it to secure himself the same as she had, with much less effort and quicker than she ever could.

Was he prodding to see what strings were attached to her now?

"The Wizengamot, for all its grandeur and prestige, really is a lot of smoke and mirrors. A lot of showmanship, yelling, arguing. And yet, in the end everyone still votes exactly the way you expected them to."

It was the game of politics, she thought, silently agreeing with him. Not many played out of some righteous desire to better things for the mob, to make the world a better place. Most everyone here had one reason or another and none had to do with honesty or virtuousness. Power, influence, money. Put on a good show and then do the easy thing, the expected thing, the thing that kept you where you were. It's what happened when one didn't have a more powerful motivator, no ambition to push further on.

A subtle arch of an eyebrow in agreement was all the reaction she showed to that statement.

"How about you, Miss Knightley? Are you as predictable as the rest of them?"

Harper smiled in return. "That depends on what it is you expect I am here for." Brows raising as she paused for a moment, searching his face for anything that might betray his intentions.

After a short moment, her face fell back to her usual stoic seriousness. "I have goals, Mr. Laurence," she stated firmly, voice even and gaze unwavering. "I will do what is necessary to reach them, whether that complies with the current agenda or not. Whether that means acting predictably or not." It was all about timing, seeing the gaps and then sliding through them before anyone noticed. "Everything's a tool, you just have to use it the right way." Sometimes that meant doing as anticipated, if just to paint a false picture. Sometimes it meant the opposite.

"And you then, Mr. Laurence?," she countered, turning to walk. "How predictable are you? I'm almost certain serving the people as a trusted government official is not what brought you here."

Here, to the Wizengamot. Here, to her.

James was well aware of his advantages and how they served him compared to...well, he wouldn't call them his peers. Others. Being pureblooded, wealthy and noble gave him more than an edge over others - it gave him an entire fucking cliff. He straddled both the magical and muggle world in his family's power, and he capitalized every ounce of it.

He'd be a fool not to.

It didn't lessen what others had achieved with hard work and perseverance - rather he admired these sorts, far more than he ever admired those on the same level as him. With want and desire came tenacity, grit, and an ability to be cut-throat. All incredibly useful traits to him that he exploited whenever he could.

"That depends on what it is you expect I am here for."

He raised his eyebrows in interest, content to remain quiet and let her take her guess. He was the type of man who only played his cards when it was the perfect moment. Until then, he relished the game of cat-and-mouse - happy to play either role at any given time. He was into it.

Goals. Self-serving. Brown eyes held hers with interest as she regaled him with her philosophy on her path to power. It was all very - progressive for a woman. He wasn't put-off; his sister was similar - different ambitions, but determined all the same, and their family was all the better for it. Unlike men with a proclivity for short-sightedness when it came to the fairer sex, James found himself consistently intrigued by the power women held that men could never.

"Everything's a tool, you just have to use it the right way."

"Couldn't have said it better myself," he said easily, pushing off the table and returning his hands to his pockets as he took a couple steps closer to the young woman. "My father taught my siblings and I one important lesson above all others." He stopped, his space invading hers just enough so she'd be able to catch the scent of oud, cardamom and amber. "Everyone has something to offer; who are we not to capitalize on it?"

"How predictable are you? I'm almost certain serving the people as a trusted government official is not what brought you here."

Was he that easy a read, or is that what he wanted her to think? His smile softened slightly as his eyes narrowed and he gave a casual shrug of his shoulders as he took a step so that his shoulder lined up along hers. He leaned towards her ear.

"Only in the ways that keep them betting on me."

Without another word, his long strides continued until he was at the door. "Have a lovely day, Harper."

There was a brief flicker of surprise in her eyes that she quickly hid away again.

It wasn't often that she encountered a man -- and one of his standing at that -- who didn't treat her with scant regard. Often times, her ambitions were met with a raised brow, a contemptuous chuckle or an outright scowl.

Her own mother was front of the line, her brother quick to follow.

Not that she let that discourage her in any bit. All it did was fuel her more. No matter who it was that stood behind that disapproval.

But she had expected something of the likes from Mr. Laurence as well, if more subtly communicated or displayed. In fact, she had been prepared for it even, had automatically put that harder tone to her voice she often used when speaking to men.

The easiness with which he pushed off the table though was not what she had expected. Or the words that followed. It wasn't so much that he seemed to agree with her but rather that he did it so quickly and openly. Unlike most who always looked like it physically hurt them to give her any credit at all.

Her head tilted back a little as he stepped closer, keeping her eyes on him, still watchful. Still wary.

Everyone had something to offer. Always something. To capitalize on.

He was right, of course. It was a principle she had been going by since her first year at school. Somehow, stupidly, it had never truly occurred to her that others might regard her in that way.

But if he saw something to take advantage of in her, she'd more than surely could find something in him too. A symbiosis.

"Only in the ways that keep them betting on me."

His scent danced around her senses, fogging her mind before she could catch herself and her heart skipped a beat as he leaned in. She turned her head to look at him, betraying nothing and anyway, it was gone quicker than she had allowed for it to stay. He was walking off already though and a small smile grew on her lips. Complacent and something akin to excitement shimmering through.

"You too, Mr. Laurance," she muttered under her breath when he was gone, idly turning to leave the room.

Wednesday, October 20, 1920
The Cabinet Offices of the Minister of Magic
11:30 AM

October 14th had been a bloody day.

With the Balbriggan Reprisals and the killing of an IRA leader, the muggle Irish uprising was proving to be more of a thorn in the Laurences' side than James had ever thought it would be. It was cutting off his business deals that flowed in through the Irish families near Dublin and Galway. Rebels were sacking transports and refusing the exit and entry of even the most mundane-looking of them.

Concealment charms had helped, but it was also costing him an exorbitant amount in additional funds for the trouble. To date, the Ministry hadn't gotten itself involved in the conflict, preferring to stay neutral. It was ridiculous. Muggle firepower was no match for magic, and the sooner the useless minister aided the British Parliament in their endeavors, the sooner this whole rebellion could be squashed.

He hadn't a meeting with Merrow, considering it a waste of his time. The man barely spoke on a good day, and when he did James had yet to hear anything even slightly riveting. Rather, he was here for Ms. Knightley. He'd seen her here and there, during Wizengamot meetings and hearings, but he'd been busy - as he assumed she had been as well - and there hadn't been time for casual chats.

He intended to rectify that.

"Afternoon Harper," he said, a rather chipper air to his tone as he strolled towards her desk. Noticing a small bowl of mints sitting out, he helped himself to one without asking, popping it between his lips with a charming grin. "I have it under good authority that you haven't had lunch yet, and I'm afraid that won't do. Can't have the Minister's most important staff member wasting away behind her desk. How will anything ever not get done?"

His quip was intentional, hoping that if Merrow was somewhere in the office he'd overheard.

"Join me then? There's a cafe around the corner from the entrance. Best tea in the city, bar-none."

Work was just the way she liked it. All-consuming and filling close to every moment of her days. Since taking up the job of Secretary to the Minister and joining the Wizengamot, her workload had drastically increased which was somewhat wonderous because it had been enormous even before.

Sitting at her neatly organized desk, Harper read through the letter she had received this morning, dropped off when she had been busy with writing up one draft proposal after the other. Only when she had finished did she glance at the sender.

Her brother was hosting an event, one that she was expected to attend.

Naturally, she would.

Undoubtedly, she would get scrutinized all night long.

Harper allowed herself a quiet sigh as she put the letter aside. She needed to put something mentionable under belt and soon. Justifying her decision of giving up her previous position with prospects of landing Head of Department one day in exchange for position of secretary was getting tiring. Having to contain her contempt for her family's lack of seeing the potential -- utterly wearying.

One day they would see though. She would make sure of that.

Lazy footsteps and an amused voice made her look up again as she pulled her journal from where it sat in one corner of her desk.

"Afternoon Harper."

"Mr. Laurence," she greeted as per usual, using his last name rather than his first. Her eyes trailed his movements when he grabbed a mint for himself, plopping it into his mouth with a grin. Her face remained unmoved, professionally neutral.

"I have it under good authority that you haven't had lunch yet, and I'm afraid that won't do. Can't have the Minister's most important staff member wasting away behind her desk. How will anything ever not get done?"

Harper opened her journal and began scribbling down the date for her brother's gala but glanced up for a split second at that quip, feeling how it tugged at her lips but she quickly shut that down.

"Join me then? There's a cafe around the corner from the entrance. Best tea in the city, bar-none."

She hadn't planned on having lunch at all, considering the amount of work still waiting on her.

But there had been an interesting conversation that still had her thinking sometimes, contemplating. Scheming.

So she closed her journal and put her quill into its holder before looking up at James with an amicable smile, moving to get up from her chair. "I think I can spare a few minutes," she said, reaching for her cloak and slipping into it as she walked around her desk to join the man standing before it, heels clicking dully against the floor.

"How are things going, Mr. Laurence?", Harper asked as they strode out the door. "It has been a while since our last talk."

"Mr. Laurence."

"So formal," he said jovially, rolling the mint around in his mouth. Peppermint. He preferred Spearmint, but one couldn't always expect the best of everything. He didn't miss the slightest smile that curved upon her lips, resulting in one of his own. She was very busy obviously, but not busy enough.

There she went, closing her notebook.

Perfect, exactly what he wanted.

As they strolled out of the office and towards the elevators, James gave an easy wave of his hand before shoving it back into his cloak pocket. "I've been well enough," he said, "This bloody uprising is throwing a wrench in quite a few endeavors. I'm sure its not the first complaint you've heard about it."

Holding the door open for Harper, James followed her into the elevator, tapping the button for the ground floor that would lead up to the floo and exit.

"It has been a while since our last talk."

James clicked his tongue as the doors shut and the elevator shot backwards and down into the shaft. A cheeky smile crossed his lips, his honey-brown eyes falling on the young woman with mirth. "Come now, Harper. I fully plan to make up my absence to you over the best cucumber sandwich you've ever had. I'll even throw in a glass of champagne to get you through the rest of your day."

Merlin knew she would need it, working for that bore of a man.

As the two made their way outside and down the streets of Westminster, passing Parliament and the abbey, the cafe came into quick view. The man had no desire to be overheard by random passersby, and he knew well the establishment had a separate hidden area for wizards just below the main level. A quick nod of his head as they entered and he led her downstairs, pulling a chair out for her at a far corner table.

"Now then," he said casually, "We can get down to business." He smiled widely, leaning back in his seat. "Last we spoke you said everything was a tool. Just needed to be wielded the right way." A slight shrug of his shoulder. "Still feel that way, working for Merrow?"

Stepping into the elevator, Harper gave a displeased hum of agreement, holding onto one of the straps hanging from the ceiling. "You have no idea the workload these muggle antics are causing me," she commented dryly. "A lot of people's endeavours--" A glance around at James before looking straight ahead again. "--are being messed with. One can only hope the muggles will settle their tedious conflicts at some point."

As though their war hadn't been bothersome enough. Hopefully this one they could handle on their own, without wizarding Britain's help.

As the doors shut with their usual ear shattering rattle and the elevator sped off towards the ground floor, Harper glanced around again, subtle amusement shining through the stoicism in her eyes. "I think a whole bottle or two will do," she teased evenly, quirking a brow.

God knew, she needed that glass of red when she finally did get home late at night.

Still, it was a joke of course. Harper Knightley would never drink at the job.

Once at the café, Harper accepted a seat where James chose it, ankles crossed and arms folded on the table's surface. The word 'business' elicited a small, knowing smile, barely perceptible and gone within a heartbeat. All of this was business, always. She made no mistake in confusing James' smirks and comments as anything but a tactic.

It's not like he was the first to try.

"Last we spoke you said everything was a tool. Just needed to be wielded the right way. Still feel that way, working for Merrow?"

"Naturally," Harper retorted smoothly. "Why would working for Merrow have changed that?" Her brows rose in subtle question before she added offhandedly, as though merely a thought experience, "Even the Minister himself might be considered a tool by some."

James could absolutely imagine the workload the uprising was causing for not only Harper, but the Ministry as a whole.

In itself, the Wizengamot was on edge, with whispers of a wand registry on the horizon which would make everything James and his family did that much more unnecessarily difficult. It would certainly skyrocket the need for black market wands and underground wandmakers. A dangerous gamble in and of itself using such a tool with no real way to verify its origins or the wandmaker's capabilities in handling dangerous cores.

Desperate times, he supposed.

"I think a whole bottle or two will do."

"A woman after my own heart," he said, his own tease laced in the words. Harper Knightley certainly knew how to play the game, didn't she? There weren't many who did, James mused, though they tried, much to their own detriment. How far down the rabbit hole she'd go with him remained a mystery.

In the world of politics there were no true friends and fewer allies. James knew well that the only people he could unconditionally rely on were his family members, but none of them were the Minister's secretary. Which left him an interesting impasse with Ms. Knightley, considering the...antics he had in mind.

"Naturally. Why would working for Merrow have changed that? Even the Minister himself might be considered a tool by some."

"Just making sure we're on the same page is all." He drummed his fingers on the table as a light smirk appeared on his lips, before disappearing when the server arrived. "Tea sandwiches," James ordered for the both of them, and sliding a paper note across the table for the server's troubles. "Bourbon neat." He glanced back at Harper, indicating for her to order a drink with a slight flick of his hand.

When they'd both ordered and the server had made himself scarce once more, James leaned back into his seat, studying the woman quietly for a moment. It was interesting how these things always went. The wolf studying the sheep, looking for the weak spot in the fence before he snuck up on them and pounced. Harper was no sheep. He had gathered as much over the past few months, watching the way she worked within the Wizengamot and the way she was equally studying him.

Two wolves then. Time would tell who would be the alpha.

"Obviously I didn't ask you here to make friends," he said, amusement sparkling behind light brown eyes, "And I'd doubt you'd offer me the time of day if I was." He sighed a bit and leaned forward again, elbows resting on the table. "I need to know if you're someone I can work with to bring Merrow down." There was no use in beating around the bush or playing coy with someone like Harper. She was astute, observant and he reckoned just as cunning as any man who'd risen through the ranks.

"I don't think it serves either of us to pretend that we don't know why. His policies are as weak as he is, and with some of the referendums he's pushing for, families like mine will suffer." He didn't expect Harper would understand completely. He'd done his homework; she was a halfblood, but perhaps power would speak her name.

"I have it in mind to see his entire cabinet overturned," his voice was low now, his expression serious and more hardened. "I have several families behind me, but I need someone on the inside. Someone who can pass information that can be used against him."

"Just making sure we're on the same page is all."

Harper's lips lifted in a subtle smile as she hummed lowly, knowing that this conversation would take an interesting turn. The reason she had agreed to it in the first place.

In a way the both of them had been dancing around each other for a while now, trying to get a glimpse beneath the façade and figure out where the other truly stood. It wasn't hard to guess a pureblood elitist's point of view, at all times. They usually wanted the same thing. More power, fewer rules, less muggle.

Harper had always believed the pureblood families should be the ones in charge -- the wizarding world's best and most valuable asset. Magical history, tradition and purity personified.

That didn't mean though that she would forgo her piece of the cake.

All she needed was the person able to help her to the platter.

She averted her gaze when the waiter arrived, face fallen back to its natural blankness and ordered a virgin Cherry Cocktail when James gestured towards her. Her eyes found his once they were alone again.

There was a brief silence, him leaned back and her studying him in return.

"Obviously I didn't ask you here to make friends. And I'd doubt you'd offer me the time of day if I was."

It almost made her smile in earnest but she reigned it in, instead flicking eyebrows high with his next sentence. Now they were talking. While James spoke, her hands moved to fold underneath her chin, propped up by the elbows on the table's surface. Interest sparkled behind her eyes although the rest of her face betrayed nothing of the paths opening up inside her mind.

It was almost funny how he didn't need to ask, beat around the bush, drop certain hints before daring to speak his mind. She supposed it was true, what they said. Game recognized game. Maybe they both always knew their intentions aligned without having to voice it. The one with more power simply needed to make the push and here it was.

Harper was quiet for a moment as James finished, tapped her foot once and lowered her arms again to lean forward a little. "I agree," she stated evenly, lowly. She had never liked Merrow, for more than one reason.

But she paused briefly, regarding the man across before arching a brow, lips curling softly on the edges and asking with a sly tone to her voice, "Who are you planning to replace all these positions with, I wonder? I'm sure you likely already have someone in mind to step up and take on the responsibility as Minster." Another pause as her head tilted ever so slightly. "Where will I land, Mr. Laurence?"

A little virgin drink. James didn't comment, finding it interesting how even the most subtle of actions and gestures could tell an entire story about someone.

"I agree."

Good. So far, Harper was exactly who he hoped she'd be. James didn't often put a lot of faith in others, preferring to make most of his own moves. It was part of his raising, having been taught to rely on his own instincts, his own capabilities and falling back on his family if and when support was needed. This however, was by far the greatest move he had ever attempted, and he knew good and well if it were to be successful, he needed to embrace the competent assistance available to him.

Her pause didn't go unnoticed. Patiently, he watched as she seemed to mull things over, accepting his drink with a polite nod from the waiter when it arrived. His smirk mirrored hers before she even spoke, covered only by the glass that he brought to his lips for a quick swig.

"Who are you planning to replace all these positions with, I wonder? I'm sure you likely already have someone in mind to step up and take on the responsibility as Minster."

Astute, wasn't she? James's eyes lifted slightly as he set his glass back down, letting the smooth burn of the bourbon coat his throat. He tapped his fingers lightly on the glass as his eyes rose to meet hers again. Of course he had ideas and a line-up ready to go.

"Where will I land, Mr. Laurence?"

A slight chuckle escaped his lips, spreading his smirk wider across his features as light brown eyes took on a different kind of shine. As serious as the moment was, the man could hardly help himself with how easily she'd walked into this one. His eyes glanced over her briefly, up and down, but not enough to be overly forward. "I can think of a few places," he said, the words falling from his lips with ease.

"More importantly," he sat forward again, "where would you want to? I'm sure we can work something out."

Her eyes flashed in warning but the smile didn't waver.

Wasn't he funny? She left it uncommented, more than used to quips like his. More than above having to stoop so low. She had made it this far without losing her dignity and even he couldn't take it from her. Nothing in the world could.

Interesting though. She tugged that little tad of information away for now.

When the waiter arrived she accepted her drink without a glance, sitting upright again.

"More importantly, where would you want to? I'm sure we can work something out."

"Hmm, I'm sure we can." Her nail tapped against the glass once before she took a sip, watchful eyes remaining on James and his smug face.

Of course he hadn't given her anything she had asked for. It didn't surprise her; people loved to keep their secrets. Instead he had turned the question back on her. But his silence spoke volumes, too. And logic connected the rest.

Dropping the smile, Harper took on the more serious demeanour again. This was business. "You ask for information, Mr. Laurence. I'd like some in exchange. If I agree to this, I want to be a part of the plan. I want to know how you mean to achieve this change in government and I want to know who you plan to instate instead. This is great risk to me."

From what his approach told her, he needed her. She would leverage that as much as she could.

She wasn't one to be easily led.

In some ways, James loathed those who didn't fall easily to the sway and charms he exuded, making him work a little hard for what he wanted. In this instance, it bode well. It meant she wouldn't be subject to the pressure that would come later down the road when things ultimately got murky. It meant she could hold her own, and in an instance like this, James needed strong allies, not bleating sheep.

The sheep could be acquired later.

He didn't miss the way her expression hardened, nor the way her voice took on a colder air. He didn't move his gaze, training his honey-brown eyes on her. As a boy, James had learned not only to observe but to interpret. His father had James accompany him to countless Ministry meetings as young as nine, grooming and molding the boy to understand the world of politics and intrigue. Charm became his mask and diplomacy his second language.

He preferred keeping his cards close to his chest, but Harper was someone he needed to gain trust with. Keeping her in the dark would only sew the opposite.

"I don't minimize the risk you would be taking," James said, his voice measured and low, "as long you don't minimize the power and security you would have behind you should you decide to work with us." He set his glass down, leaning forward on the table a little, his elbow and arm resting lazily on it.

"I have several powerful pureblood families behind me. You'll understand if I don't name them, just as I won't name you." Power lay in discretion. "But they'll all find themselves in high-ranking positions once this is over. The administration that comes after Merrow will be unstoppable, and we'd welcome you to be a part of it, with the understanding your loyalty is ours."

As far as the Minister? "I'll be taking on the head of government," he said, as casually as though he'd said he'd be taking a walk later. "And should you work with me - without question - you'll find yourself in the second-highest ranking position in magical Britain." A smirk rose at the corner of his lips, his eyes taking on a darker shadow.

"Senior Undersecretary Knightley has a pretty ring to it, doesn't it?"

A government led by the pureblood elite, the way Harper had always believed it should be. Where tradition and pride lead Wizarding Britain instead of weak, impressionable men that cared too much about muggles and too little about their own people, their own values and advancements.

A government that would actually shape this country into something powerful again after their last minister had allowed those muggle sympathisers to wreak havoc. Merrow certainly hadn't proved to be the right man for the job, fumbling one thing after the other by making the wrong decisions over and over again. By being spineless and lethargic.

Harper had been hoping for the tide to change.

This was it and she'd be right in the middle of it, working along those most worthy. Becoming more worthy herself. More powerful than anyone in her family had ever been; none of them could look down on her anymore.

A slow smile crept across her face, eyes darkening as she looked up from her drink and back at James across. Leaning forward a little as well, voice low, she said, "My loyalty has always belonged to this country and making it better. The way I understand it, you intend to do just that."

Everything would change if they succeeded.

"Senior Undersecretary Knightley does have a pretty ring." Smirking, Harper gently raised her drink to chink glasses, and seal the deal.

But keeping the sense of caution in her heart nonetheless.