Thank Merlin for Fridays! Even for the tall, lanky, verging on workaholic linguist, it had been a long week of complicated paperwork. But it was not over yet, but at the very least, he would be able to get out of the office.

Unfortunately the weather had been a bit patchy, but at about nine o'clock the clouds had ceased their drizzle over London and hung like a grey duvet over the sky, taking the edge off the cold, but still denying the Spring colours to shine on the ground below.

Johann felt rather fortunate to have the quick wand of Auror Warrington beside him on this excursion. There had been a dementor attack days before, which had made him feel rather unsettled about matters.

Thankfully the two of them got on very well (which was lucky, as it wouldn't have done to fall out with mother Warrington, who was a colleague on level five) with a shared love of travel.

From what Johann knew, Omari's travels had involved a lot more wand-waving and perilous adventure than the cowardly Durmstrang graduate had engaged in. He was a little jealous, even if he told himself he'd never have the guts to be within half a mile of an erumpent without a telescope to view it!

"So, he's brought a whole shipment of this specialist peat through from Mongolia, takes it all the way up to Aberdeen. It was meant to be there two days ago - ready for a certain moon phase," Johann explained as they made their way through the morning's shoppers, "Naturally the herbologist is displeased, it's late, and he kicks off. Well, you read the report of the injuries, but sewing legs back on takes a while, especially when it looks like dark magic took them off."

He hadn't quite realised what he'd just said, considering the auror beside him knew rather a bit about missing legs.

"Anyhow, from what the hitwizards reported, McDonald said Heinemann didn't come off too well either, so he'll have gone to ground somewhere to recover."

They were on their way to the company Heinemann, a trader, worked for, which was based in Diagon Alley. Most of the rest of the staff were foreign, which was why DIMC had been asked to come along to help.

"Don't mention what I do, alright? Be a nice surprise for them if they get chatty in their own tongues." Johann grinned as they approached the front of the offices.

"After you."

In the early Friday morning, Omari was hard to miss amongst the wizards and witches trotting along Diagon Alley - his incredible height; the golden hoop in his ear; the scarlet robe flowing behind him; and his silver leg pounding against the cobbled street made him look like a force not to mess with. The Auror robes always made him stretch a little extra, and he had an authoritarian aura around him. That was, as long as he didn’t smile...

The case had been handed to him this morning and Omari was pleased that Johann would come along. They did meet every time Omari swung by the DIMC to say hello to his mother, but it had been some time since they had seen each other outside of the Ministry. Sure, it was Ministry business, but it was something else than paperwork. And he had always thought Johann needed more field work.

As they approached Heinemann’s Omari tried to keep up with all the peats, Mongolias and Aberdeens that Johann was talking about. It was a lot, but at least the remark about losing a limb made him chuckle as they approached the shop. Deciding that it’d be best to make an imposing impression, Omari slammed the door open.

As the door flew open everyone inside stopped what they were doing, staring at the two new arrivals. Omari stomped forward, towards the desk, every other step echoing with a metallic chink.

“Mornin’, lads,” Omari said in his usual thick Scottish. “Mr. Heinemann around?”

A plump, balding man stapling boxes closest to the door shook his head nervously.

“Where might he be then?”

The balding man peered at another, this one with black hair and mousy features, who took a step forward and spoke reluctantly. And a bit too hasty. “Away! Business!”

Omari raised an eyebrow, and glanced sideways at Johann. No immediate collaboration here. He cleared his throat and took a moment to look around. The place was nice enough, but judging from what he saw he couldn’t quite make out what their business was. There were at least four wizards in the shop - the balding one by the door; the mousy one by the desk; a tall, dumb-looking one in the east corner; and one with greasy hair by the back door. He turned back to the mousy wizard.

“You in charge then?”

“No. Herr Gerste!”

“And whereaboots is he?”

“Away. Business!”

Omari sighed and turned to Johann. He had never been one for the negotiation part of the job, but he was hoping Johann might have some input, even though he wasn't an Auror. In this scenario he figured it would be better if Johann was the brain, and he was the muscles.

Auror Warrington imposed on any room with his build but even more so in these offices, with his robes and rich boom of a voice. Johann knew that the whole effect could make some witches week at the knees… and a few wizards. Ahem…

"Away! Business!" So went down the whole hope that the rest of them would be chatty. They had gone for the tact of silence. Bother.

He exchanged a glance with Omari, who then persisted, but the same mousy looking one replied with business.

"Business isn't quite the answer we were looking for," Johann explained as smoothly as he could with his German-tinged accent. "I hope it hasn't escaped your notice that the wizard asking you, is a Ministry auror."

There was an awkward shuffle from the balding one, who had ceased stapling boxes, and was looking like he wanted to leave. Feeling bolder for Omari being in the room. Johann sidestepped into the way and smiled, slipping his hands into the pockets of his long coat.

The mousy one had folded his arms now and was looking a little irritable.

"Why ask?" The greasy one at the back spoke up with a sneer across his face.

"Because he's won a thousand galleons." Johann retorted with an edge of sarcasm. The expression received in return made Johann shuffle his feet and avert his eyes a little nervously. He suspected greasy at the back could probably disarm him with his bare hands.

"When did you last see Mr Heinemann?" He asked with a sigh.

There was an exchange of glances, some muttering and shrugging. Johann looked exasperated to Omari. He was after all, a linguist, and for all his clever thoughts, he was not used to dealing with generally mute people - they were the opposite of language. He could only make observations and assumptions about them all - and at present it was that they were all people he wouldn't have a pint with.

"Look, if we don't find him, it's very doubtful any of you will get paid for this week or month." Johann lied.

"He here yesterday." The nervous bald one nearest to Johann piped up.

As Johann spoke, Omari analyzed his surroundings even further. The greasy one looked like the biggest threat, and with that sly comment on why they were asking, Omari decided that he was the one to look for any movement of hexing. The bald one seemed like the easiest to handle, and if Omari could just get him alone the mission would’ve been much easier.

Omari wasn’t surprised that he was the one to speak first.

“Yesterday ye say?”

He took a couple of steps closer to the little man, putting his thumbs down his belt to tactically show off the aspen wand in its holster on his hip. The man’s eyes grew even wider, and Omari could see (with a bit of satisfaction) that he was sweating. This wasn’t an outright threat, but he knew it was threatening.

“And how was he, Mr. Heinemann?” Omari said with a smile. “A bit under the weather, perhaps?”

Omari was towering over the man, and he could almost see the cogs turning beneath the bald spot. But, just as the man was about to spoke, the mousy faced one shouted something in a language Omari couldn’t understand. The plump one answered, his voice shaking as he did so. Omari turned around and locked eyes with the other wizard.

“I’m guessin’ ya saw him as well?”

“No,” the mousy one replied, his eyes meeting Omari’s gaze without flinching. “Away. Business.”

“Ya know what?” Omari said, stormed up to the counter, grabbing a quill and a piece of parchment. “We’ll just leave a message fer him, and he can contact us when he gets back, all right?”

He slammed the parchment on the desk, turned on his heels and headed for the door. He had no time or patience to stand around talking nonsense back and forth to a couple of scared henchmen. But he still hadn’t missed the subtle movement of two of them reaching for their wands when he had head for the counter.

As he walked past Johann, he bobbed his head, motioning for him to follow him outside.

"Hmm," Johann mused as the two of them made it outside, "that didn't quite go to plan."

Then again, from what he'd heard, these things often didn't, though if you listened to the glory recollections of aurors, they were always successful, or their failures were told by others.

"You reckon they'll pass that on?" Johann asked, his eyes glancing through the glass of the window where the bald one with the boxes was glaring at them. He was looking to see what scene they had left.

"Its just," he was still lingering by the doorway, although the door had shut heavily behind them both, "I couldn't help but feel they'd have given away more if pressed."

Then again, Johann's insight into such matters were based on incidents before he had come to work for the British Ministry of Magic. Trips to foreign countries where jabberknoll feather import contracts were negotiated with painful grips and twisted arms.

"Or have I misread, and you've got a plan, Warrington?" He tilted his head, eyes heavily lidded as he studied the other man with curiosity.

Omari swung around with a big grin on his face.

“Ofcourse it didn’t go as planned. Nothin’ ever does, does it?”

He glanced over Johann’s shoulder, before leading him a couple of steps away from the door by putting a hand on his shoulder. He hunched closer, still smiling.

“First off - did ye catch any of what they said in there?”

He put a hand down one of his pockets, and started fiddling, trying to get something out.

“Second - I’d bet me right leg that an owl is already on its way to Herr Heinemann”

Finally getting a hold of what he was looking for, Omari pulled out two flesh-coloured strings and held them up with a big smile on his lips. He handed one of the Extendable Ears to Johann and put the other one in his own ear and went over to stand next to one of the shops windows, in a way that made him unnoticable from the inside. Sliding the other end of the string through a small crack in the window, he folded his arms and winked at Johann.

Johann drew closer to the auror and listened with great curiosity as to what the plan was. Aurors had some interesting tactics up their red sleeves, and he was always keen to see what they were up to.

"First off - did ye catch any of what they said in there?"

"Other than the English? Yes, a little, discussing that those boxes had to be out by this evening… what are you…?"

Extendable Ears. Of course!

"Oh you're clever, very clever." Johann uttered quietly, receiving his flesh appendage and following suit.

The conversation inside was already flowing, from what they could hear. Johann hastily brought a self-inking quill and parchment to hand and began to listen intently, noting what he could down in English so Omari could also read it.

Discussing what to do with the note - worried you might track an owl, that the place is monitored.

No, they don't think it is serious enough for that, they're sending the note.

There was a disgruntled hooting and some swearing. Johann decided not to detail that the owl had probably just taken bits out of someones fingers for being disturbed.

"Are you tracking owls?" He asked in a whisper, curious.

It's gone. Talking about the boxes again, they're going to Kings Cross. Apparently it's lucky we didn't open one.

He glanced to Omari and raised an eyebrow, wondering if the auror would return and open them.

Warning one of them to be back in time to go to the pub. Possible meeting - 8pm?

He tilted his head, looking thoughtful. He hadn't caught the location which irritated him, but perhaps Omari might have. The boxes moving and piling were making a bit of noise.

It was easy enough to hear the sounds of farewell and then footsteps towards a door. Johann almost leapt behind Omari in alarm that someone might be leaving the shop.

Omari listened as intently as Johann, even though he couldn’t understand a single word of the gibberish they were talking inside. But he could still understand the worrying and anger of the people that spoke, and that the argument was heated. As he saw Johann draw out a quill and parchment, he mentally sighed in relief. Omari soaked in what Johann wrote trying to figure out who was saying what. At Johann’s question, he shook his head.

“Not high enough priority.”

The talking (and Johann’s writing) picked up again after the hooting owl, and finally Omari thought he  understood something that was said: King’s Cross and the Hog’s Head. A peek at Johann’s parchment confirmed the first one. The conversation within seemed to come to an end, and Omari (sensing the approaching steps) pulled Johann aside, and ushered him to start walking. And not a second too late. In the corner of his eye he saw the greasy wizard and his tall companion leave the shop, heading in the direction of The Leaky Cauldron.

As the two wizards walked away, Omari turned to Johann.

“So, there’s definitely somethin’ illegal in the boxes,” he began, taking the note from Johann. “And they’re goin’ to King’s Cross. From what I heard I think the meeting will be in Hogsmeade, at the Hog’s Head.”

He threw a look back at the door, deciding whether or not to go in, before he shook his head slightly and turned it back to Johann.

“I think we should take a trip to Knockturn Alley,” he said. “I know of a lass who’ve worked with Heinemann before. Merlin knows with what though.”

They were away in just the nick of time. Johann was again ever so glad he was with Omari and his quick wand. They hadn't been the most threatening sort, but he had little defence himself.

The parchment slipped from between his fingers and over to the auror, and his quill found a home again in his coat pocket.

"The Hog's Head!" Johann exclaimed, perhaps a little too fervently considering the matter, but he was more ticked off with himself for not hearing properly. "Yes, quite." He added in a more restrained tone and nodded.

"Knockturn Alley?" Johann asked with mild trepidation. He'd ventured down there more than once alone, mostly to obtain potent sleeping potion since the St Mungo's apothecary were now wise to his stealing, not that Omari knew of this.

"Will she talk to you? I mean, you're an auror, people down there never seem to want to talk to the Ministry?" He gestured to Omari's official appearance. "It's lovely and all," he explained, despite himself, "does the job, and looks good on you - I mean isn't she going to be scared off?"

Without intending, his nerves about the whole situation were allowing his peripheral thoughts about Omari's appearance bleed through.

"Other than following them to the station and breaking open the boxes, or going to the pub tonight to find them, there's not much else we can do. Er, do you want me to tag along, or…?" Johann asked a little too hastily, giving every impression he wasn't keen on the trip, even though he was rather anxious to discover what had occurred with Heinemann and his victim.

Omari gave Johann a big grin.

“Oh, she’ll talk to me,” he said, and bobbed his head in the general direction of Knockturn Alley. “I helped her a couple o’ months back with an artifact some ol’ git had sold her.”

He stretched his back slightly at Johann’s comment. The uniform was one of Omari’s most prized possessions and when someone gave it praise, or even, like in this case, hinted that it might strike fear into some people, he felt magnificent. Some people down in Knockturn Alley would run the other direction if they saw a red coat coming down the cobbled street, and he had no doubt that most stores would make for a new case altogether if he decided to enter.

He was just about to start walking when he heard the small hint of hesitation in Johann’s voice.

“Oh, It’ll be alright,” he began. “It’d be nice ter have another set o’ ears with me.”

He gave a laugh, and slammed a big, friendly hand in Johann’s back.

“And I’ll be there to protect ye!”

Omari easily waylaid Johann's doubts about the contact in Knockturn Alley. Whether the auror had a certain charm over the woman was yet to be seen, but he was certainly confident of her helping.

The hand between his shoulder blades took Johann quite by surprise and he staggered forwards a couple of steps owing to his lean, not so sturdy build.

"Merlin!" He coughed and returned to Omari's side and laughed, "ring a bell next time?"

As they rounded the corner and into the shadowy street which always felt a few degrees colder.
"When you say you helped her, was that in an official capacity, red robes and all?" Johann asked with a hint of mischief, wondering if the witch in question was a looker. Then again, if she wasn't, and it didn't matter to Omari, good on him too…

"Yes, wouldn't find me down here ordinarily." He told the auror, though the statement lacked conviction. "But I guess your team are forever down here..."

End