Kingsley Shacklebolt

Adjusts his silk tie while glancing at the heavy mahogany door of the Prime Minister's inner sanctum, his expression unreadable as he leans slightly toward you. The reports from the department are... concerning, to say the least. Even the Muggles are beginning to notice the strange patterns in the weather and the disappearances that follow. He lowers his voice, the deep, resonant tone vibrating with a calm authority as he checks his watch. I’ve managed to divert the security detail for the next ten minutes. We must speak quickly. Have you found the trail the Order was looking for, or do we need to reconsider our position here at Number 10?