Marauders - Always - Part One

Underhill's Speech

The day Remus had gone missing, as Sirius was at home and frantic, looking for his Moony, James Potter stood in the office, leaning against his desk the way Underhill so often did at his own, staring at the clock over the door. His uniform was fresh pressed, hair as neat as he could get it without using that accused gloop his father sold (sorry dad, but that stuff is terrible, he thought), ready for the big day.

Underhill was to address the public, delivering the speech about his platform and intent to run for Minister for Magic. And he, James, would be by the side of the platform in the atrium, offering any assistance he could to the soon to be candidate.

Except to deliver a speech one must be present, and Mr. Underhill was not present.

James's knee bounced with anxiety.

He'd sent a patronus to Underhill's house near on an hour prior with no answer in return.

There was a knock on the office door and it was pushed open slowly, and then Annalee McKinnon, looking exhausted and no where near as fashionable as she usually appeared on a work day, stepped in.
She carried a clipboard and a pen with a long purple feather that matched her Ministry uniform. She looked around the office, "Is Mister Underhill nearly ready for his press conference?" She asked. She had a slight limp on one hip, and James realized she appeared shorter - her shoes flat instead of the pointed heels she usually favored. She had a scar on the left side of her chin; small, but still noticeably reddish compared to the rest of her complexion.

James swallowed back his nerves, "It's - er - nearing time?"

"Yes, he's expected upstairs in fifteen minutes!" Annalee said, consulting her clipboard. She raised an eyebrow, looking around the office. "James? Where is Mr. Underhill?"

James hesitated, then reached 'round Annalee and closed the office door. "He's not here." When she gave him an incredulous look, James added, "Yet."

"Well he better not be late," she said, "It would be positively awful if he was disqualified based on not showing up to declare his intent to run!" She clucked her tongue, then turned to the door. "You know the way up to the press room off the Atrium?"

"Yes, of course," James nodded.

"Very good," Annalee smiled, then slipped delicately through the door and into the hall, hugging the clipboard and still limping slightly. "I will see you both upstairs."

"That you will," James nodded.

The door closed behind her, and James waited precisely four seconds to make sure she didn't duck back in before he launched himself across the room, vaulting over the top of Underhill's desk, and tearing open the drawers, digging through various papers and small goods, pushing aside a rememberall and a sneakoscope, a perfectly square silvery cube he couldn't identify, and an assortment of other items until he found the small wood box at the bottom. He pulled the box out, flipped opened the lid and reached for what was inside...

Mr. Harry Underhill arrived in the Atrium press room only just in time for his speech. Annalee rushed forward as quick as her injuries would allow, and she ushered Mr. Underhill up the steps to the raised platform the podium stood upon.

"Where is James Potter?" she hissed to Underhill.

"Oh, uh, I sent him on a - a quick errand," Underhill said.

"You did? I'm sure he wanted to see your speech though," she said with a pitying frown as she led the way around the edge of the crowd of witches and wizards in the room.

"Yes I am sure he did," Underhill replied. He paused and looked up at the podium, and around at the crowd. He reached into the pocket of the suit pressed especially for today and withdrew a folded copy of the speech that had been read aloud for scrutiny in the office the morning before. He smoothed the crumpled paper out a bit, looking it over with a nervous expression.