Dumbledore said nothing. His fingers no longer rubbed the tabletop. He pressed his thumbs together and lowered his head, looking at his hands. There was no view outside the office window, only another gray wall.
His gaze was unfocused. He was considering one detail-getting seven members to second the motion would not be difficult. The difficult part was ensuring that Fudge would not find excuses to dismiss those seven after they signed. Fudge and the Wizengamot ordinarily stayed out of each other's affairs, but Dumbledore was not certain he would tolerate their plan once he learned of it.
Kreek spoke, with a rasp in his voice, as though he had a piece of biscuit in his mouth that he had not swallowed. "I'll sign. Greta will, too. Morris, will you?"
Morris did not answer immediately.
Morris looked down at the blank parchment on the table, the quill's tip hovering an inch above it, a drop of ink still clinging to the nib.
The ink gleamed in the lamplight like a round black raindrop suspended in midair, yet to fall. After a few seconds of silence, Morris set down the quill. "I'll sign."
Kreek nodded without saying anything more. He turned the document before him to its final page and wrote a few words in the signature field. The strokes were heavy, the nib leaving indentations in the parchment.
He pushed the document over to Greta, who signed it and passed it to Morris. Morris signed as well. Kreek gathered up the document, returned it to the folder, closed the folder, and placed it at the upper-left corner of the table.
"Nine tomorrow morning. The Wizengamot hearing chamber. I'll go to the Minister's Office myself to deliver the notice. He'll come. If he doesn't, so much the better. We'll hold it