For the second time in as many days, Mortimer walked the thickly-carpeted hallways of level one. This time he had not been summoned to the Minister, but had arranged to consult with Cabhan Ó Domhnaill, who he had known for many years. The two of them had been through the Ministry occupation with the dark lord and years before that in their respective roles. Although Mortimer had never been able to speak freely about his own role, they had a mutual understanding, as elements of Cabhan's had been much the same. The wizard's financial acumen would probably allow him to retire a very rich man, should he benefit from his unique insight into the coffers of the Ministry, the functions of Gringotts and how this pieced together in the foreign markets.

Whereas he'd been somewhat incensed by the Minister the previous day[1], who had insisted in drastic cuts to aspects of his budget spending, he felt assured that Cabhan would be able to explain this sudden and heavy-handed review of spending at this point in the year. Muggles did do that sort of thing around this time, the Spring being the start of the new tax year for British muggles, but the wizarding world liked to do its own thing, which could be rather more erratic, so he was told.

"Orion's had some good news about his pay from the publishers," his wife, Lyra, had informed him the previous evening when he'd been brooding over the meeting, "Apparently his latest edition on Marrakech has sold far more copies than they projected." His eldest son spent his years travelling the world by boat, writing travel guides for the wizarding world, and was usually rubbing two knuts together to make ends meet because of his adventures. His granddaughter, Ariadne seemed to have no worries about this, enjoying much the same, but Lyra and Mortimer had been concerned that he might end up stranded somewhere having run out of money entirely. Typical, he'd thought at the time as he attempted to look very pleased for his son as his wife looked up from the letter, just as my budget is torn to shreds.

"Cabhan!" Mortimer eventually greeted his friend, and for appearances as they were at work and this was business, he extended his hand to shake very firmly. "My thanks for agreeing some time in your diary at such short notice."

An junior, who had been assisting the undersecretary, scooped up the last of some paperwork she was offering for a signature, and scurried away, nodding pleasantries to the Department Head as she went. Mortimer settled himself in a chair without invitation, feeling he didn't need to wait for any.

"How are things? Lyra says you must have dinner with us again soon, even suggested we do so after the end of the Hogwarts term, invite young Thomas, and our Ariadne." Lyra always had been more interested in including the younger generation, being a tutor for wizarding families before their offspring were old enough to attend Hogwarts. Cabhan's nephew, Thomas, was of similar age to their granddaughter, and Mortimer more than suspected that as they grew up, his wife considered Thomas and the rest of his family to have potential for combining with the Gamp line.

But what he was really itching to ask followed soon after the pleasantries, his brow furrowed with deep lines as he spoke.
"Tell me straight, Cabhan, what is the motivation behind this audit? Has this Tetra-wizard tournament bankrupted International Co-operation, has the International Federation fined us after a contamination of the dragons, what with this sickness? Apologies, it is just very irregular for Mysteries to have to oblige to such intrusive examination of stock and coin, and I am at risk of looking a fool in comparison to my predecessors if I do not ring-fence our research budgets." He knew Cabhan could probably not allude to the details (certainly not the finest of details that were confidential) but at least the man would talk sense.

1.	A Most Worthy Investment

Cabhan was sitting at his desk, expecting a visit from an old friend who he hadn’t seen in a little while. Mortimer Gamp. Head of the Department of Mysteries, which was facing some pretty severe budget cuts if Cabhan had read the new budget outlines correctly. Really, this new budget was just an early sign of economic crisis. He expected the Minister to start drowning Gringotts in money soon enough, valorizing capital for the future, and plugging the sinkhole for a little bit. But that was just speculation, maybe some clever moves and state intervention from her would prevent it from getting that bad. He had seen crisis after crisis be averted by people like the minister, whether they were other ministers, or muggle leaders. He was going to get up and take a look outside his door, to see if Mortimer was on his way, but he realized then that he didn’t need to, because the man had just walked into his office.

Standing up from his desk and meeting the extended hand for a firm shake, Cabhan grinned. “How are you Mortimer, you old snake? And it’s no problem, to be quite frank I had a meeting scheduled with a Gringotts official, but I decided to tell him to reschedule, because I don’t have the stamina to deal with a goblin yelling at me in Gobbledygook about economics today.” When the wizard sat down, Cabhan also fell back into his chair. The Irishman flicked his wand and murmured “Accio tea kettle.” The kettle proceeded to gently float over and land on the table, causing no great damage. There was already a set of teacups on the table, into which Cabhan poured some scalding jade. “I know you love Hong-Kong Jade, and I had a few packets of it left, so please help yourself.”

At the mention of Thomas and Ariadne, Cabhan smiled. He knew that boy quite fancied Ariadne, or at least was fond of her. “Aye, a post-term dinner sounds splendid. Your wife is quite the cook, and I’m sure the kids would have quite a bit of fun together. It’s a must, and we’ll have to sort the details out soon.” Mortimer was actually quite pleasant when it came down to it, disproved quite a few stereotypes about Slytherins. A nice change from how formal and awkward all the other ministry officials were, all “Protocol doesn’t allow for that!” kind of people. Giving a little shake of his head at the thought of them, Cabhan saw that Mortimer had shifted into business mode. He was going to ask questions about budget cuts, wasn’t he?

Cabhan gave a sigh, and looked Mortimer in the eye. “The audits weren’t inspired by any of those things in particular, no. We have something a tad more serious than that to deal with. You’re the Head of the Department of Mysteries, so I trust you not to repeat what I’m going to say.” Tapping his finger on the table without any real rhythm, Cabhan formed his thoughts into a coherent sentence. “I won’t tell you more than this: Gringotts is overstepping its boundaries.”

How astute of Cabhan to keep the Hong-Kong Jade. It made Mortimer feel all the better for coming to speak to his old friend about his frustrations. It did put them both in an awkward position, he well knew.

It was however good to hear he was positive on the dinner invitation, even if they were yet to set a date. Lyra was rather better at doing such things, of course, and suggesting a menu. Mortimer's cooking was rather inspired on the odd occasion, but he could rather get distracted. He preferred to study the labels on bottles of wine in the cellar.

"The audits weren't inspired by any of those things in particular, no." Cabhan explained, and cut straight to the point - a quality Mortimer never failed to admire in a man. He would of course keep the conversation entirely confidential, he always did.

"Gringotts is overstepping its boundaries."

"They called the audit?" Mortimer asked, his face all lines of thought and concern, and on this occasion, his mouth working a little more swiftly than his mind.

"No, they surely don't have the power. The Minister is at odds with Gringotts? Now!"

He sat back and dwelled a moment on that little fact. The Minister and Gringotts at odds, causing an audit to be called, with sweeping cuts. Had there been a catastrophic miscalculation in funds, or a sudden cut in loans? Or even a steep hike in interest on repayments - a government was always somewhat in debt.

"Has she lost control of the bloody bank, Cabhan?"

If anyone would give him a straight answer, it was Ó Domhnaill.


End