There was silence on the other end of the phone for a few seconds, followed by a long sigh of relief from Wendell Granger.
"Good God... so that's what this is. Politics... bloody politics.
I knew it. Whether they're wizards or prime ministers, once they reach that position, they're all as bad as each other."
Wendell's reasoning had become internally consistent.
In his view, war was an uncontrollable disaster;
political struggle, however, was a controllable game full of bluffing.
Since Douglas had called it "the big players shaking out the market," everything had to be fine.
"So I should bring them back to the United Kingdom?"
"Of course. Come back, Wendell.
Carry on with your holiday, or go home and have a cup of hot tea.
Don't let the panic of those Germans around you who've never seen anything of the world rub off on you.
This is the herd mentality you see during a stock market crash. You need to be the one who keeps a clear head."
"I understand! Thank you, sir! Really... if it weren't for you, I'd have done something stupid and bought plane tickets to Australia!"
Wendell's voice was once again full of the confidence of the head of a household.
Douglas could hear him turn and call out to the others:
"Monica! Stop crying!! Hermione! Everything's fine!
Mr. Holmes said it's just political unrest!
It's those bureaucrats squabbling among themselves! There's no danger at all!
We'll carry on watching the match... oh, they've stopped the match. Then we'll go back to the hotel for sausages!"
A little while later, after a rustling sound, Hermione's voice came through again.
This time, the panic was gone from her tone, replaced instead by a chilling calm.
"Professor."
"I'm here, Hermione. It seems your father has calmed down."