"Mr. Dumbledore…"
"Mr. Albus Dumbledore, over here…"
"Over here, sir…"
"Mr. Dumbledore, over here!"
Without much delay after Dumbledore's address, the floor was opened to questions and answers. Camera flashes lit up the chamber in rapid succession and every hand rose almost simultaneously, calling out one name, the only name they were familiar with at this point.
Dumbledore took the ruckus entirely in stride, raising one hand in a calm, unhurried gesture before pointing toward a raised hand near the front.
"Mr. Dumbledore, Daniel Mercer, WNN..."
The reporter rose slightly from his seat, making sure his voice carried above the others. "Mr. Dumbledore, you've introduced yourself, but the world knows nothing about the six people seated beside you. "Could you tell us briefly, who are they, and what exactly do the seven of you represent when you say you represent the magical community?"
Dumbledore flashed his familiar smile, the usual twinkle already dancing in his eyes.
"As I mentioned in my address, my colleagues and I are representatives of the magical world. Or rather more plainly, we are among those entrusted with the greatest authority within our world, particularly when matters of wizarding law are concerned."
After saying, he turned his head to one side. "As for my colleagues' identities... starting from the left, we have Lady Olympe Maxime. Beside her is Lord Takamura Ryunosuke, then Lord Matheus Guimarães." Turning the other side, he continued, "And this is Master Zhang Weiguo, Master Maverick Caesar, and Lord Edward Garling."
Camera lenses followed Dumbledore's introduction, moving from one to the next, capturing each face.
"To our people, we are known as the Seven Speakers, and together, we represent the highest authority within the International Confederation of Wizards. You may think of it as something rather similar to your United Nations, though our arrangement is a little different..."
He paused, "we are not elected, nor did we inherit our positions by virtue of a family name or lineage."
They were questions bound to arise at some point during the press conference, so Dumbledore was simply content to answer them before they were asked.
"...quite simply, we hold our positions because of our strength. Or, if you prefer, because of our magic."
Looking directly towards the reporter who had asked the question, Dumbledore continued.
"The stronger one's magic, the greater the responsibility one is generally expected to bear, and with it comes a certain measure of... influence."
"Mr. Dumbledore, sir..." One reporter could no longer wait his turn, "are you implying that, as long as you're strong enough, you could hold the highest office among your people?"
"In the broadest sense, I suppose one could put it that way."
Dumbledore's smile never left his face.
"While our two worlds share a great deal in common, we have our own peculiarities as well, and certain customs within our society will no doubt seem rather unusual from your perspective. Chief among them, perhaps, is the relationship between individual ability and authority..."
"You could, of course, reduce it to a rather simple matter of whoever has the biggest fist wins." He chuckled. "But that isn't entirely the case. To hold the position of a Speaker within our United Congress, the most important condition is indeed that one must have reached the rank of Arch-Magus."
He paused there, "As to precisely what that entails, I believe you will have ample opportunity to discover that for yourselves after this conference. Our institutions have been open to your media since three evenings ago, and we have advised our people to share our history, among other things, with those who come asking..."
The answer seemed to leave the reporter wanting more, but Dumbledore appeared quite finished with the matter.
"I believe that answers your immediate question." He smiled in the manner of a kindly grandfather, which had, somehow, the effect of making the room feel slightly less like a feeding frenzy.
Hands rose again immediately. Before pointing toward another, Dumbledore added, "Just a reminder, you are welcome to direct your questions to any one of us—"
He scanned the room briefly. "You, young lady..."
The woman in question was not, in any conventional sense of the word, young. Though to an old relic more than a century old, perhaps she was, but to any ordinary human, she was certainly past middle age.
A faint flush of crimson crossed her face at the remark, but she was a professional, and professionalism won out over the momentary surprise.
She quickly cleared her throat before speaking.
"My question is for Lady Olympe Maxime," she said, turning her attention towards the half-giantess. "Are we to assume that you are the only woman in this body of highest authority in your world?"
Maverick's brows twitched immediately. He hadn't expected to encounter a wild feminist here.
Maxime, meanwhile, didn't beat around the bush, nor did she offer any argument with her answer. It was simply a matter of fact.
"Yes." And that, apparently, was that.
Another forest of hands rose, and Dumbledore, who had somewhat naturally assumed the role of deciding who got to speak next, pointed toward a young reporter near the middle of the room.
"David Miller, BBC." The man's eyes moved briefly along the long table before addressing the room more broadly. "My question is directed less at the seven of you specifically and more generally, if I may."
"Her Majesty and Mr. Dumbledore both mentioned in their addresses that your two civilisations have cooperated on three separate occasions in recent history, one of which occurred only a few days ago. The other two, as we've been told, took place during the Second World War and then again two years ago, in connection with what has now been described as an... alien invasion."
He paused, his tone carrying just enough restraint to make clear he was still working through his feelings about that particular detail.
"I understand the full records are being released to the press, but with practically the entire world watching this room right now, could you elaborate, even briefly, on those two earlier occasions? I think the world deserves at least that much..."
Dumbledore didn't take the initiative to answer this time, instead looking towards the non-magical leaders, leaving the matter in their hands.
The reporter made a fair point. After dropping such bombshells before the entire world, it was only right that it be addressed, at the very least, a brief account.
A few moments passed before a microphone came alive, the soft click followed by someone clearing his throat.
All the camera lenses turned towards the sound, eventually settling on a middle-aged man seated in the very front row. His was a face that needed no introduction.
"Good afternoon..." Uncle Sam's leader leaned slightly towards the microphone. He seemed to have made a decision, the viewers having just watched him exchange a brief, hushed discussion with the leaders seated nearby.
He looked directly into the cameras. "I know the world wants answers, and you shall get them. However, there is far too much to explain for us to properly address it all here today."
"At the same time, I want to assure everyone that we are not holding anything back, nor do we intend to. But if we elaborate only briefly, it will likely raise more questions than it answers, leaving room for doubt and speculation. We want to avoid that, especially during such a sensitive period. That is the primary reason why we reached this decision together, after careful consideration, rather than simply narrating the important notes from the records of the Second World War and releasing the entire files to the public..."
"Once you have reviewed the records in their entirety, we will be more than happy to address any questions that may arise at a future briefing. I am quite certain this will not be the last time we, together with our neighbours, have the opportunity to meet with you in this manner—"
"Mr. President, what about what happened two years ago?" the same reporter pressed seizing the brief pause.
The President hardly seemed bothered by the interruption.
He gave a small nod. "We can certainly share some details regarding that." He then turned towards the long table. "Gentlemen, and Lady Maxime, how about one of you briefly fills the reporters in, since you were there on site..."
"Perhaps you would care to take the lead on this one," Dumbledore said, turning toward Maverick, while the others offered quiet nods of agreement.
He had, after all, been at the helm during the operation against the Kree invasion.
He leaned forward with a resigned sigh, bringing himself closer to the microphone.
All the camera lenses focused on his face. Of the seven people seated at the long table, he and Olympe Maxime were perhaps the two who had left the public most curious. One was the only woman among them, while the other looked far too young compared to the rest.
On top of that, Maverick's face had been plastered across newspapers and television screens for the past three days, as he had also been at the centre of what happened over London.
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