Despite these dissapointments, slowly but surely, placements were found for most of the children, save for a few whose parents had quite notably been involved with Lord Voldemort.
When the new Minister of Magic sent his personal letters out to find places in the new world for these unwanted refugees of the war, he had expected nothing but refusals to grace his desk. He had sent out packets, with the names and notable skills of each child, along with a personal letter of reccomendation.
He found himself not to be dissapointed. Letter after letter came streaming across his desk bearing apologies and the politest refusals. He then set about finding ministry internships for what he had come to refer to as "the outcasts", and had found positions for a great deal of them.
9 days after the last letter of refusal had crossed his desk, a decidedly haggard looking owl was brought into his office, by his equally haggard looking secretary, brandishing his legs like a weapon, a letter tied to it. Wearily, the minister untied the letter, the bird perching anxiously on the edge of his desk. He unrolled the scroll and read the letter out loud to his secretary, thinking it to be another spectacular refusal, dissapointment already fixed on both of their visages.
Forgive the tardiness of our response, but it takes an exceptionally long time for a single owl to fly back and forth between England and Romania and we thought we'd give your owl a bit of rest before sending it back.
With regards to the contents of your letter, I have discussed it with my dragon handlers, and although their response was not one of great enthusiasm, as you might expect, one of our handlers has agreed to take on Mr. Malfoy as his apprentice. Please firecall me with the details of his arrival (I don't think your owl could take another full trip), and we will have accomodations ready for him when he arrives.
Senior Dragon Handler
Effingham Dragon Reserve, Romania.
The minister nearly jumped out of his skin with excitement at the prospect. Imagine someone offering to take the one child that most letters had told him they specifically didn't want. He turned back to his secretary, still standing where she had been before, blinking with disbelief.
"Well, set up a firecall at once, and please do send someone to inform Mr. Malfoy to pack his things. We'll send him off in the morning."
Shaken out of her stupor, his secretary nodded, and scurried out of the room to make the arrangements.
The minister sat down at his desk, shaking his head in wonderment and speaking out loud to himself.
"I wonder who volunteered to take him on?"
The minister's secretary came bustling back into his office an hour later, looking more disheveled than she had before.
"I've been informed that Mr. Malfoy has packed those things he wishes to take with him, and Mr. Markin will be firecalling in about 2 minutes."
The minister sat up and straightened his tie, smoothing down the front of his wrinkled suit jacket and moving to the chair in front of the fire to wait for the call.
Less than a minute later, the fire hissed and popped, and the weatherbeaten face of Mr. Markin appeared in the flames.
"Minister, glad to see the owl got back to you safely".
The minister grinned, "yes, well they've gotten used to longer trips these days. But that's of little concern. I'd like to personally thank you for taking on young Mr. Malfoy. I daresay I was having quite the trouble finding him a placement, with his father being who he was."
Alex Markin nodded grimly through the flames, "well, it won't be me taking him on, minister, although I assure you he will be in very capable hands."
The minister leaned in towards the fire, as if preparing to share a secret, "ah yes, I have been wondering you see, exactly who will we be sending our Mr. Malfoy off to?"
Markin beamed proudly at him from the fire, "Charlie Weasley, sir. One of the best handlers we have, and an all around stand up guy. So minister, all things accounted for, when can we be expecting the lad?"
The minister smiled easily, "does tomorrow morning suit you? Say around 11, we'll send him by floo to your main office. No way he'll get lost that way."
Markin nodded briefly, "tomorrow at 11 it is, I'll be sure someone is in the office to receive him. Best of luck with finding place for the others, Minister."
The fire popped, made a sizzling sound, and Markin's face dissapeared from sight, leaving the Minister with his thoughts. He called his secretary back in.
"Please send someone to inform Mr. Malfoy that he will be leaving from my office in the morning for Romania."
His secretary exhaled slowly, and nodded.
"I hope this Weasley boy knows what he's getting himself into."