Cavendish leaned back in his chair and let out a long, slow breath.
No one spoke.
The weight of everything discussed seemed to settle across the room like an unseen fog.
Then Cavendish spoke again, his voice quieter but firmer.
"It appears that all of you are moving along the right path. Each of you has established roots where they were needed. Influence planted. Seeds sown."
His eyes moved from one face to another.
"We have achieved substantial progress. Far more than we expected to accomplish in only the first month since the mission began."
He folded his hands together once more.
"But remember this."
His tone sharpened slightly.
"Progress invites risk. Visibility is the enemy of longevity. You must remain careful. Do not allow yourselves to become known. Not by the British wizarding world. Not by anyone who might look too closely."
The room fell completely still.
"Blend in," he continued. "Integrate. Let time do its work. Influence that grows slowly is the hardest to uproot."
He paused, letting the words sink in.
His gaze settled first on Olivia.
"Madam Brooks," he said quietly, but in firmness. "I have received the preliminary report regarding your recent operation. I want you to recount it again. In full. Share it with everyone here."
Olivia inclined her head slightly.
"Yes, sir."
She folded her hands in her lap, her posture straight and composed.
"My operative was given a limited directive based on the intelligence we had. A group of our people had been abducted by what we initially believed to be a minor criminal circle. I passed the information to him and instructed immediate intervention."
She paused briefly.
"The rescue was successful. All captives were recovered and transferred to one of our secure locations. They are currently under medical supervision."
James leaned forward slightly, listening more closely now.
Olivia continued.
"After they were stabilized, interrogations took place and we obtained what we needed. Debriefings completed, memory modifications followed. We removed the trauma of their captivity and, as regulations required, erased their knowledge of the magical world—especially the events in question. They now have no memory of what actually took place."
Cavendish gave a slow nod. "Efficient." he murmured.
"But," Olivia added, her voice tightening almost imperceptibly, "the matter was not as small as we believed."
The atmosphere in the room shifted.
"The kidnappers were not isolated criminals. They are part of a much larger network. An international one."
Henry's expression darkened slightly.
"They operate across multiple countries," Olivia went on. "Their targets are consistent. Young women. Children. Individuals who can disappear without causing too much public noise in our world."
She forced herself to continue steadily.
"The children are taken for experimentation. Magical experimentation. Used by powerful wizards seeking forbidden knowledge."
A faint stillness settled over the room.
"And the women?" Cavendish asked quietly.
Olivia's jaw tightened, but she answered.
"In Britain, they are used in a very different way. Sold. Traded. Delivered to private gatherings. Simply for the entertainment of powerful families and their heirs."
No one spoke for a moment.
Then Cavendish exhaled slowly.
"We deal with… similar problems in our own world," he said softly, voice pitched low. "But I won't stand for it when wizard kind hunt our people and see us as nothing more than inferior creatures."
He leaned forward slightly, his expression sharpening.
"Listen carefully, all of you."
His gaze swept across the room.
"From this moment onward, I want you all to gather intelligence on every individual connected to such networks. Anyone abducting non magical civilians. Anyone trafficking them. I want their names and addresses."
He let the words hang in the air.
"You will gather information first. Nothing reckless or heroic deed."
His voice hardened slightly.
"If you can rescue victims without jeopardizing your primary missions, do so. If you cannot… you will withdraw."
The last word fell like iron.
"I understand it is cruel," he continued, quieter now. "But our larger objectives must take precedence. There will always be sacrifices in work like ours."
James and Norris nodded slowly.
Sir Chester followed, though more reluctantly.
Only Olivia remained still.
Her fingers had tightened in the fabric of her sleeve, knuckles pale beneath the tension. But she said nothing. To argue here would not change anything. And she knew better than most that morality had no permanent place in rooms like this.
Cavendish did not acknowledge the tension. Instead, he shifted the discussion.
"Now then," he said, steepling his fingers. "The Ministry elections. This is the most critical development of the week. Two major candidates. Two very different futures."
His gaze moved toward James.
"You have the deepest reach within the Ministry. Tell us. What is your assessment? Who will win?"
James did not hesitate.
"Mrs. Potter," he said calmly. "All indicators suggest she will take the office."
Cavendish watched him closely. "Your reasoning."
"There are several factors," James replied. "First, her age and public image. She represents renewal. Reform. Many see her as the future of the Ministry."
He leaned back slightly.
"She has served across multiple departments over the past decade. That has earned her connections in every corner of the British magical structure. Allies who may not openly campaign, but who will influence outcomes quietly."
Cavendish nodded once said "Logical."
"And then," James continued, "there is her name."
A faint smile touched his lips.
"Her connection to the most famous figure in modern magical history cannot be overstated. Being related to that legacy alone draws support from neutral families who might otherwise avoid political entanglements."
Olivia remained silent, though she knew exactly how powerful symbols could be in the magical world.
"And," James added with quiet pride, "my operative's work has also contributed. He has spent years cultivating networks that now align behind her. The groundwork is paying off."
Cavendish's eyes narrowed slightly. "You mentioned another factor in your written report."
James nodded.
"Yes. Albus Dumbledore."
That name alone carried weight.
Cavendish frowned slightly. "He was supposed to remain neutral. He publicly refused to endorse any candidate. And he has longstanding ties with the opposing faction."
"That is true," James admitted. "Publicly."
He leaned forward slightly.
"But my operative has received reliable intelligence. Behind the scenes, Dumbledore is leaning toward Potter. Strongly."
"Why is that?" Cavendish asked.
"History," James replied. "The Potter family stood firmly with him during the war. Loyalty like that leaves marks. He may refuse public power, but he has not forgotten those who stood beside him."
Cavendish's expression grew thoughtful.
"And he declined the position himself," James added. "He was pressured repeatedly to take the Minister's seat. But he refused. He prefers influence without office. He remains at Hogwarts by choice."
Cavendish nodded slowly. That aligned with everything he knew.
Then he asked another question.
"And the current Minister? The one stepping down. Where does she stand?"
James exhaled softly.
"She is the reason the election has dragged on so long. Nearly a year of stalemate. She openly supports the opposing candidate. The one backed by some old families."
A faint crease formed between Cavendish's brows.
"That is… politically dangerous."
"Yes," James said. "But she has done it anyway. Without her interference, this election would have ended months ago."
He continued.
"But the stalemate is ending. Dumbledore has intervened directly. He is mediating between both factions. A final council gathering has been scheduled. Once that happens, the result will be declared."
"So this week is the final," Cavendish murmured.
"Yes," James said. "This week decides everything."
Cavendish leaned back slowly, absorbing the weight of it all.
"It seems," he said quietly, "that our projections are holding true. The situation is unfolding as expected. If Potter rises, our position strengthens considerably."
He glanced at the others.
"Continue as planned. Maintain caution. The closer we are to success, the more dangerous missteps become."
He drew breath to conclude the meeting.
But Olivia spoke.
"I apologize for interrupting, sir."
The room stilled slightly.
Cavendish looked at her, mildly surprised. Olivia rarely interrupted anyone, especially not him.
"Yes, Madam Brooks?"
Her expression was calm, but her eyes were serious.
"There is another matter. One that cannot wait."
Cavendish straightened slightly.
"Go on."
She spoke carefully.
"This concerns the aristocracy. The old bloodlines."
That alone caught everyone's attention.
"The grandson of the Duke of Bedford," she said quietly, "has manifested magic."
Silence followed instantly.
Cavendish stared at her and asked in surprise. "A wizard?"
"Yes, sir."
He looked forward and asked. "Are you certain?"
"I visited the Duke personally," Olivia replied. "He is deeply concerned. The boy has already shown clear signs of magical awakening."
"What kind of signs?" Cavendish asked.
"Uncontrolled manifestations," she said. "Changes in eye color. Minor reality distortions. The classic early indicators."
Cavendish's expression grew very serious.
"And the family knows?"
"Yes. The Duke was already aware of the magical world through indirect exposure. But the boy's father himself was unprepared for this."
Cavendish looked down at his desk, silent for several seconds.
Then he spoke.
"Do nothing further for now."
Olivia nodded slightly.
"I will handle this personally," he continued. "I will meet the Duke myself. This is not a matter that can be delegated."
A faint intensity entered his voice.
"A wizard born into a high aristocratic line is… extremely valuable. Potentially historic."
James and Sir Chester exchanged a glance.
"Do you intend to recruit him?" James asked carefully.
Cavendish shook his head slowly.
"That is not my decision to make."
He lifted his gaze again.
"This must be brought before Her Majesty. Immediately."
Even in a room filled with hardened operatives, that statement carried gravity.
"This is not merely intelligence," Cavendish continued. "It is a matter of the Crown itself. A magical subject within the upper nobility changes the equation entirely."
Sir Chester inclined his head respectfully.
"If assistance is required," he said quietly, "I would be honored to help guide the boy's upbringing. If Her Majesty wishes it."
Cavendish gave a faint nod.
"If she commands it, we will all serve accordingly."
He paused briefly, then added, "He will likely receive an invitation to Hogwarts soon enough. That much is inevitable. But the Crown must decide how closely he will be watched… or guided."
He rose from his chair.
The meeting was over.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, his tone lighter now but still authoritative, "I am satisfied with today's reports. Progress is being made. We will reconvene next month."
He gathered a few documents together.
"Continue your operations. Submit updated intelligence before our next meeting. And maintain discretion at all times."
Then he gave a small, polite nod.
"I must request your leave. I have an audience to arrange."
Everyone understood what that meant.
They rose together, chairs shifting softly against the floor.
One by one, they offered farewells.
Cavendish remained where he stood, already turning toward the weight of what lay ahead.