Sasha would be lying if he tried to claim the theme song for the Twilight Zone wasn't playing through his head at the moment, as he watched the older wizard step through the nondescript door and beckon him forward.  Of course, it was all entirely his mind running wild; he hadn't really encountered anything to justify the mystical mood music in his head between retrieving his visitor badge, registering his wand and finding his way to the indicated waiting area for Level 9.  After all, most of that routine had become a very familiar sequence, though his usual destination was a particular cubicle tucked within Level 2. 

Those were visits of a very different kind.  Though he was usually smartly dressed, by default, he was usually dressed in Cambridge-appropriate muggle clothes when he visited Abby - sometimes, when things didn't quite go as planned - complete with a white lab coat. 

Today, it was all fancy wizard's robes.  And, fancy wizard's boots.  And, carefully magic-styled hair.  And ... okay ... the resume and various school documents in his hands weren't all wizarding.  They were an odd assortment of the proper, wizarding parchment resume, documentation of his thirteen NEWTS and his internship with Johann Storm in the Department of International Magical Cooperation.  Mixed with the parchment, however, was a computerized copy of his five A-Levels: Biology, Physics, Chemistry, Mathematics and German as well as enrollment verification for the four classes he was sitting at Cambridge.  The four classes that were (remarkably) heading into final exams in about two weeks.

"You must be Mr. Morgenthau," Sasha offered, making use of every etiquette lesson Edith had given him and every business lesson his step-father had given him to good use as he met the man's gaze and extended a hand.  "I appreciate you taking the time to meet with me.  I'm not sure what ... well, Virgil has said.  Or, I suppose -"  Wait, no.  What he didn't and wasn't supposed to say wasn't the right thing to say.  And, he could hear the admonishments from all of his lessons (including those with Ignan Storm) coming back to him about using complete sentences. 

He grinned sheepishly and felt the all-too-familiar flush of warmth in his cheeks as he offered a slight shrug.  "I'm sorry," he offered, anxiously. 

            "You're wearing the sweater I got you!" Virgil had smugly remarked earlier today, when he dropped by - as was now their habit - to talk about some Legilimency matter in the Brain Room.

Yavin had shooed off his protege with a reminder to do some actual work in one of the less popular chambers. Although he was banned from the Love Chamber as a result of the potion debacle with the young Miss Reid. A little mischief could go a long way if two good heads set their minds to it - and those two were quick as ferrets.

Which led him to look forward to meeting Sasha Schlagenweit, described to Yavin as a rule-aware bookworm with an emphasis on the bookworm and a tendency to overthink. Also described as Abigail's significant other.

The young man entering his office really did look the part, complete with a stack of papers in his arms and well-polished boots. Yav waved him over to one of the three chairs before his desk. The centre was occupied by a skeleton who was sitting sprawled out with a straw hat over its eye sockets. His other skeletons were haphazardly placed around the white marble room, with one directly behind Yavin's desk - perched delicately on the ledge of the window overlooking the desert. It wore huge round sunglasses.

"Don't, aha, don't worry about it." Yav dismissed the apology after they'd shaken hands. "Call me Yavin. Virgil, he, that is, he tells me you might have an interest in our space project? I would say astrophysics but, hm, more likely to be chemical or bio-chemical in the near future."

He sat on the ledge of his desk, facing the visitor, rather than behind it. Yavin smiled. His dark eyes, hidden behind gleaming spectacles, also seemed to smile. "He also, um, also mentioned that he sprung his little talent on you," the old wizard tapped his temples pointedly.

"The Virgil Carstairs treatment. I, haha, I apologise on his behalf." Yavin spoke in the tone of a long-suffering parent who only partly minded their child's misbehaviour.

To both Sasha's surprise and delight, it became apparent quickly enough that this Yavin Morgenthau wasn't any better at crafting a full sentence that he was.  He wasn't entirely sure what that actually meant but, at the very least, he assumed the man couldn't go around pointing fingers at others.  That was, alone, enough to help put Sasha a little more at ease. 

Oddly, the spattering of scantily clad skeletons also helped him relax just a tad.  Primarily because they were not the only unexpectedly adorned human bones he'd encountered that day.  "Do they have names?" he asked, settling himself into one of the two unoccupied chairs while looking curiously at the hat-clad skeleton in the chair next to him.  "There's one named Sid at the University Library.  He's currently sporting a kilt."  It was, perhaps, not the most traditional of conversation ice breakers but it seemed likely to work. 

He turned his attention back to Yavin as the other settled himself on the desk and confirmed that Virgil had given the man some forewarning of Sasha's interest.  That wasn't entirely surprising, though it did leave Sasha wondering what else his former classmate might have said. 

"To be honest," he confessed with a grin, "I wasn't even sure it was a space project.  I was ... I've been working off of very little information but I gathered it had to do with physics."  Even that much hadn't been confirmed by Virgil - more, it had been deduced from both 'talking' with Virgil and subsequent ARTEMIS demonstration.  Nothing Virgil had said or implied contradicted that hypothesis.  "I just got the impression that there might be something to which I could actually apply my ... well, interdisciplinary educational background."  He'd spent hours trying to brainstorm how to present his particular skill or knowledge set in a 'Ministry-appropriate' light.  Despite what assurances Virgil had offered, he still was still doubtful it would be met with anything but dismissal and disapproval. 

Except, right now, it was Yavin talking about astrophysics and biochemistry.  Sasha grinned and nodded as he shuffled through the papers in his hands in search of the right ones.  "Yes.  He opted to use that talent for our conversation.  It ... took me by surprise.  I think I overshared."  He felt the warmth rising in his cheeks and quickly turned his attention the papers. 

"I have NEWTs that might be applicable.  But, I also have A-Levels in physics, chemistry, biology and mathematics - they're the muggle equivalent of NEWTs.  I also have one in German but that was sort of cheating and not really applicable."  He grinned slightly and extending both the list of NEWT results and computerized A-Levels to the man.

            "Do they have names?"

"Sometimes," he replied distractedly as the skeleton next to Sasha looked over at their guest to tip its straw hat stylistically. "I'm not sure where they, hah, where they derive their props." It clattered into a different position, shades going back up and arms reaching behind its skull as if to rest back against the seat. A very relaxed posture.

Many features on level nine went unexplained. It was the department of mysteries - Yavin had come to expect and accept the inexplicable, including his skeletal roommates and their strange relationship with him and with each other.

Sasha appeared to be quite straightforward and earnest in his approach, which of course meant he wasn't. Wizarding folk with a foot in the no-maj world... they knew how to hide their little secrets in plain sight, how to forget one reality while dealing with another. Virgil had brought up details of Sasha's oversharing that hinted at such things. Most people, after all, kept their skeletons in their closets.

"Ah." Yavin accepted the sheaf of papers, giving the results a glance and then casually tossing them aside on his desk. "You didn't have to, hm, to bother. I've had you vetted," he smiled enigmatically and made eye contact - briefly, just long enough to indicate that he knew more than a written application could convey. More than Sasha might wish to convey.

Nobody from outside the Ministry got into his office without that much of a precaution. He wondered if the boy was naive or simply unfamiliar with the logistics of this magical government.

"Drink?" he offered with a wide gesture at his workshop table, where various apparatus were arranged alongside gleaming copper tumblers intended for unscientific purposes. "And then we, ah, we can move on to an agreement of, that is, of nondisclosure?"

Yavin reached for a scroll that had been tucked into his pocket, a little golden yellow ribbon holding it together. "Strictly protocol. Even if you, um, if you don't choose to participate, we can't, aha, have details getting out."

Sasha cast a sideways glance at the skeleton in the neighboring seat and started to open his mouth to ask if the sometimes meant that only some of the skeletons had names or if they all had names only part of the time.  But, as the skeleton dipped it's hat, he decided against it and closed his mouth, turning back to Yavin. 

"Oh," Sasha offered, nodding his head, trying to ignore the moment of uncertainty.  He really didn't know what might be involved in a Ministry-level vetting and could only speculate what an endeavor would uncover.  What rumors or storied had the man come across?  How far into the weeds were they able to wade? 

Making a pointed effort to ignore the little gurgle of discomfort behind his navel as he watched the man toss the carefully organized and polished CV to the side, he took a deep breath and shifted his attention back to Yavin. 

"Hopefully that's not a bad thing," he offered, with a slight grin, trying to inject some levity that was most likely solely for his own benefit. 

Sasha offered a nod and a polite "yes, thank you," at the offer of a drink and turned his attention to the next order of business. 

"I - of course - I'd been prepared for that.  Given everything I'd heard, it seemed fairly likely.  I wasn't sure if there would be some sort of magically-binding commitment or something."  He offered an awkward half-grin and shrugged.    "This seems to be the most Men In Black-ish department in the Ministry; I'd debated asking if I got my black sunglasses today or on my first day."

Vetting was never a bad or good thing. It was only information, to him, and he didn't like to judge (unless it was useful to judge, in which case thank Merlin). Yavin simply smiled as he unfurled the scroll to lay flat on the desk before Sasha. The agreement was standard for most temporary level 9 workers - any kind of breach would alert the department.

            "I'd debated asking if I got my black sunglasses today or on my first day."

"Regular spectacles[1], actually," the old wizard tapped the sides of his own dark frames and laughed. "You'll get your, hm, your own pair after you've learned our, aha, current cypher."

The no-maj reference wasn't lost on him. He liked no-maj movies and no-maj universities and even the odd no-maj themselves. But Yavin was also wary of them and the differences between their societies; the osmosis of knowledge rarely worked both ways, and he preferred it as such.

He stood up, going back around his desk to assume his regular seat and drawing his wand. "I hope you, um, hope you like mango," he gestured at the shelves beyond his workshop table, where the copper tumblers and stirrers jumped into action. "Why don't you leave your, hah, your mark -" Yavin nodded at the contract, "- and tell me exactly what you think you know about Virgil's errand so far. Speculate."

The thing about vetting was that you couldn't vet the inside of someone's head. Well, you could, but this didn't merit that.

1.	Unspeakables have enchanted spectacles

"Really?"  The Men In Black comment had been intended as a joke and Sasha hadn't expected it to make sense, let alone produce any results.  As a consequence, any disappointment he might have had if the inquiry about a pair of ray bans had been serious was swiftly overshadowed by surprise. 

Besides, this all felt enticingly like a chapter out of a George Smiley story.  If George Smiley did astronomy.  The lost Le Carre book where Smiley realized he was secretly descended from Galileo and ...  Sasha's attention was captured by the rustling and moving of papers and drink bottles.  He shook his head to bring his thoughts back to the present before nodding to confirm he liked mango. 

"I suppose that makes sense.  Nothing says I'm concealing something quite like a pair of dark sunglasses.  I've always wondered what I'd look like with glasses - guess I'll find out." 

Sasha patted his pockets and pulled out a pen but, after a second thought, stowed the pen away and drew his wand.  “I suppose I have two theories,” he admitted as he touched his wand to the page and his mark glowed briefly on the parchment.  “Well, two primary theories and several minor, less viable theories.”  Of course, this was the wizarding world – logically less viable didn’t necessarily mean it was unlikely.  It was more that he lacked the knowledge, and ability, to satisfactorily connect the pieces. 

“Either the Ministry catalogues Muggle research into a library of sorts for adaptation for our own use.  Given we don’t exactly have an institute dedicated to higher learning … and nothing beyond Hogwarts that isn’t connected to the government … that seems like a consistent source of new ideas and theories to investigate, prove or disprove.  That explains your interest in the professor’s research but not, necessarily, why it would be of continuing help.  Or how I can be of help.” 

He shrugged his shoulders and settled back into the chair, better able to relax now that the anxiety of CVs and casual chitchat had passed. 

“I suspect there’s still an element of that but, obviously, you have specific interest in ARTEMIS – which means you probably have interest in being able to calculate the movement of interstellar objects.  Why … or what that interest might be … I really can only speculate, but I’ve been playing with the math from the lecture and... my first guess is that you’re looking into the influences of magic on the physical principles influencing gravitational forces … or dark matter.  I admit, it’s only my first guess because it’s a personal pet project and … wishful thinking.” 

Sasha grinned, sheepishly, and shrugged his shoulders again; quantum mechanics and dark matter were, very much, areas of research he was trying to get into as quickly as possible.  “If your interest in ARTEMIS isn’t for general use, it’s for specific use – you’re wanting to map the path of a specific object but, obviously, not an object that has garnered interest of Muggle scientists – otherwise, you’d be seeking their information on that object and not ARTEMIS.  Comet.  Asteroid.  Planets orbiting in another galaxy.  Maybe you’re wanting to adapt it to monitor the movements of deep sea creatures or flight patterns of pixies or phoenixes or … but that’s starting to get into the secondary theories.”

As the younger wizard spoke, Yavin listened rather impassively. He rose and went to the lab table to keep an eye on the drinks being made, his back to Sasha. He smiled to himself at the mention of dark matter. And when he returned to his desk, he placed one of the copper tumblers before the boy and another on his own side. A verbose kid. It was protocol not to interrupt or to give indications of what these theories meant to level nine, of course.

He could picture a younger Schlagenweit trying to talk the ears off any adult willing to give him the time of the day.

            "...flight patterns of pixies or phoenixes or … but that’s starting to get into the secondary theories."

"And Merlin forbid we, hm, we delve into secondary theories." Yavin settled back into his chair across the table, the first outward remark of his having paid attention. "I think, to, um, begin with. You need to understand that the Department of Mysteries isn't...ah, synonymous with the Ministry itself."

You could hear the mocking, officious capitalisation in his voice.  Yavin sat back and crossed his legs. Behind him, a brilliant sandstorm had begun to pick up pace in one of the windows. "We have Unspeakables in muggle research. Even in, hah, even in NASA, although MACUSA breathes down my neck about it at least once a week."

His American equivalent was a pain in the ass but easier for him to deal with than your average Brit. He'd been one of them once upon time, after all.

"It's not public information for what, that is, what are obvious reasons." Yavin gestured animatedly with one hand while he picked up his drink with the other - meaning that wizarding society did not like to think it could borrow from the muggles. "So you're not, um, not wrong about our cataloguing."

He paused to drink his concoction, a mango tamarind mocktail sprinkled with black pepper. Sasha's reasoning was logical but it was also unfocused and outwardly unorganised. That would have to change.

"We are tracking an object foreign to our solar system," Yavin cut to the chase, "due to crash possibly just before the new year. It's, ah, imperative for us to know where it will, hm, will make its grand entrance. Hence ARTEMIS. Hence Virgil, hence you. Hence, hah, hence the astrophysicists we fund and employ."

"And Merlin forbid we, hm, we delve into secondary theories."

Something about the man's ... quirky demeanor paired with an peculiar touch of humor made it just a little easier for Sasha to relax and he met Yavin's comment with a somewhat awkward grin.  "I had to stop somewhere," he offered with a half-shrug.  "I can always bring the dry erase board with me, next time." 

Admittedly, being in the presence of an adult who seemed just as incapable of generating full, complete sentences on the first attempt also helped. 

The grin broadened, matched with a brief flicker of surprised excitement, when the older man spoke of Ministry wizards at NASA and nodded his head.  Before he could catch himself, a quiet question escaped him and he leaned forward, resting his hands in his lap.  "I ... is that ... is that actually an eventual possibility?"   He couldn't deny he, occasionally, got lost in daydreams about such an eventuality - especially when he needed a little extra motivation to get through an evening of studying.  "Or, if this is only temporary ... would I have options after this?  Do I get ... I do get to keep the memories of what I worked on?  This is what I've been working towards and I intend to continue." 

He started to nod and confirm he understood the separation between Level 9 and the rest of the Ministry as well as the general need for secrecy but the gesture faltered against a twinge of frustration.  He could understand the need for propriety over the intellectual products from Level 9; he didn't understand the need to keep the overall nature of their work completely secret.  Or, rather, it seemed like there was a risk of the damages outweighing the benefits. 

He opened his mouth to ask but thought better of it and closed it again.  He'd been raised with enough of an understanding of respecting seniority that he knew it was not his place to ask. 

Slowly, Sasha nodded as he listened to the explanation and continued the silent gesture for several moments after Yavin grew quiet as he knitted the information together with what they'd learned at the talk and what he'd gathered from his own review of the material.  His fingers itched with a desire to start scribbling notes but he occupied them with picking up the drink.  Like tiny little fireworks, a scattering of questions were starting to pop up and he resisted the urge to divulge the whole lot of them on Yavin.  So, he focused on the two that, initially, seemed the most important. 

"Imperative because it poses a potential safety risk or because we aren't the only ones who've noticed it?" he asked.  If the British Ministry of Magic was engaged in this kind of research, no doubt there were others that were doing similar work.  He could all too easily see a race with Russian or Australian wizards to take possession of this thing.  "And, can I see the coordinates?"

It was a lot to take in. He gave a different, slightly more comprehensive talk to the Unspeakables-in-Training when he assumed the role of department head - there had been questions and objections and youths who simply walked out of the room. Yavin knew this wasn't something anyone could do: imagine discovering the unimaginable and being unable to share that with even your closest loved ones.

"You, ah, you will have the option of working in muggle institutes," he clarified as he leaned back in his seat, gaze narrowing. "As our... hm. As our mole, in a way. A gatherer of, um, of information for further investigation. If you leave permanently you may keep some memories but not all."

Yavin shrugged, as if he were talking about something much less significant. "It depends. You'll be processed."

When Unspeakables did choose to leave the service, they were subject to a series of interviews and investigations , not dissimilar to a psychological evaluation, that helped level nine decide what information could be safely kept. The process could take anywhere from months to a year but Sasha didn't need to know that now - he wasn't one of them. Yet.

Yavin slipped off his spectacles while the younger wizard absorbed the bulk of their discussion. He wiped them clean on the hem of his sweater, a thoughtful curl at the corners of his mouth.

"Oh, people have, aha, have noticed. Muggles, adventurers, astronomers..." he trailed off dryly and wore his spectacles again. "We deal with them. The, hm, the other Ministries are in touch but we've confirmed it will land in our, that is, our territory. So it's our game for now."

Meetings and communications with their equivalents abroad would eventually happen. There was more paperwork and bureaucracy involved than he liked. "Coordinates are confidential," Yavin smiled apologetically, or almost apologetically. "Until you, uh, until you agree to come onboard."

The confidentiality agreement only extended to the offer being placed before Sasha. A taster. Some liked what they heard, others were frightened by it. A select few reacted violently.

"If you do, you have to sign a blood contract."

"You, ah, you will have the option of working in muggle institutes."

"And, I don't have to quit Cambridge?" Sasha asked, his fingers still shifting against the cold, damp glass in his hands though he hadn't, yet, taken a sip.  He already had a hard enough time coalescing his thoughts into linear and cohesive speech; the last thing he needed was to dull his sense.  At least before having come to a decision with which he felt comfortable.

He licked his lips as he traced a line through the beads of condensation.  "Will I have the option of staying on after this project?  Or, you know, is this intended to be strictly temporary?"  The thought that he might put effort into a project only to have most of what he'd gained from that project taken away at the end seemed ... harsh.  Unethical.  It wasn't that he felt the need for public recognition for his work; he'd already accepted that wouldn't happen when he'd accepted the offer from Cambridge. 

"Being able to maintain a personal sense of gratification doesn't seem unreasonable." 

He could recognize that he'd likely achieve more ... accomplish more with the Department of Mysteries.  But, if he was inevitably destined to lose his own accomplishments as soon as the department got what they wanted then there was ultimately nothing in it for him than a paycheck. 

Merlin knew he didn't need the paycheck. 

And, while Yavin's apparent lack of concern over jurisdiction of this object all but confirmed the imperative in locating it was about safety, it was clear he'd reached the end of what he'd divulge without a full commitment.  One Sasha was willing to offer, so long as the Department was planning on intellectually using him up and spitting him out with nothing more than a few galleons to show for his effort. 

Like any wizard of true scientific nature, it was not the secrecy but the effort and knowledge that seemed to worry Sasha the most. That was a concern only the young could afford to have on level nine - eventually the toll of keeping quiet would take its effect, especially because the wizarding world was so small. He knew, for example, that the young man would find it difficult to keep something from Miss Reid if it directly involved her.

"You may need to, hm, switch to a part-time undergraduate." Yavin explained with a shrug, glancing down to carelessly examine his nails. "Officially, it would be a part-time trainee position. Twice as long to qualify for, that is, for full Unspeakable[1] authority. You can choose to drop out or keep on."

It would be a waste of resources to invite the boy onboard for only a short time. They could use him well and it was more beneficial to use people over the long-term, in his opinion. They gained experience on both sides, feeding each other. Yavin looked back up and smiled a strange, unreadable smile.

Virgil knew how to pick them, didn't he? Was it the Legilimency or Seer ability? A knack for knowing people who attracted trouble or were attracted to trouble?

"You'll get a, hm, a free hand you understand," he ran his finger around the rim of his copper tumbler, emitting a high and pleasantly subtle sound. "Within reason. You answer to, hah, to qualified Unspeakables. Virgil can tell you more about that."

Yavin didn't dabble in details for very long - it wasn't his place, nor was it his interest to take trainees by the hand and lead them. It was different with his protege, naturally, but everyone brought their own skillset and history to the Mysteries table. "We'll give you, ah, give you three days to make up your mind shall we?"

1.	Wiki: Unspeakables-in-Training

Sasha dropped his gaze to his glass and, once more, grew silent.  Especially if - assuming he wasn't a complete idiot - leaving Level nine would be his choice, this just opened up another avenue and another potential resource for what he wanted to do.  He could keep studying at Cambridge - and so what if it took longer?  That just meant he'd be a student for longer and that was hardly the worst fate he could imagine. 

Actually, it sounded more like a dream come true. 

And, it would allow him to divide and conquer.  He could focus his efforts on one area of interest at the Ministry and pursue another at home in his own lab.  Perhaps it was youthful naivety, but he only gave fleeting consideration to the long term challenge of maintaining secrecy.  That, more than anything, felt like trusty old hat - something he'd been wearing for some time.  Perhaps time would prove him wrong but, for now, it was an easier concern to dismiss. 

As a result, it was easy for Sasha to shake his head at the offer of three days to make up his mind.  He'd already ascertained that there were likely very few other opportunities in the wizarding world that would accept and, even, value his interests.  Even if he'd never actually anticipated he'd find himself working for the Ministry of Magic.

"The three days aren't necessary, sir," Sasha offered, finally taking a sip of the drink.  "I'm ready to sign the blood contract.  Final exams are next week.  I'll have almost six weeks off and will make arrangements to adjust my Lent term schedule accordingly.  And, I'll have summer breaks to spend here full time unless there are school internships or summer programs that would be useful." 

"My my," Yavin remarked, his deep voice full of laughter as he rose from his seat and turned around to observe the sandstorm that had turned one of his windows into a wall of tawny grain. "Those are, aha, those are a great deal of words." How Schlagenweit organised his schedule wasn't particularly interesting to him - those things fell into a place if you wanted something badly enough and he trusted his trainees to be able to sort out their lives outside level nine.

The old wizard slipped his hands into his pocket, back still facing his young visitor. Something was the matter with this kid's head: had to be, if he was fine signing a blood contract this very moment. And didn't Virgil say something about a necromancy attempt at school?

Rules didn't mean a lot to Sasha, maybe, or not as much as the knowledge he was greedy for. He'd tell someone to keep an eye on him.

"The three days isn't a suggestion." Yavin swivelled back around on his heels and smiled smoothly at the young man. "Come back on the, um, that is, the new moon. Rosier[1] will sign you right up," he referred to the Unspeakable who was involved in the Space Chamber investigations. "Says he, hm, he's practically family? Married into the Spectres."

A good wizarding family, he thought, if you were looking for cover and wanted to hide behind bigger personalities. Yavin returned to his desk but simply stood there with a thoughtful expression. "You'll fit right in, I'm, hah, I'm sure."

1.	Carmichael Rosier

A hint of color flushed across Sasha's cheeks and he reached for the folder of papers on the desk, tucking them neatly in his lap.  "I apologize sir," he offered.  "I had assumed you were my supervisor and would be handling scheduling."  Nothing, after all, had been said to the contrary.  He hesitated a moment and cast a glance towards the skeleton in the chair next to him, shrugging slightly. 

Sasha remembered a time, when he was much younger and the whole concept of magic was still bright and new and exciting, when he'd wondered how he was ever going to manage to keep all this secret from everyone in his life.  He'd picture himself impressing his friends with all the things he could do but it hadn't taken long for him to realize they'd never believe him.  Which of his friends would have ever believed that he was sitting here sharing glances with a skeleton with slightly better fashion sense than the man who was interviewing him for a job. 

"Of course, sir."  He nodded, confirming he understood returning on the new moon, followed quickly by scribbling a note on the back of one of his papers to add a moon phase calendar to his icalendar.  But, his pen paused briefly and he glanced up at the mention of his supervisor marrying Spectres and being family.  Again, he felt his cheeks flush as he fidgeted uncomfortably.  "I wasn't aware you knew," he admitted.  "But, um - Virgil doesn't know.  Nor do I think many at the Ministry do."  Short of Balfour and Johann, he wasn't aware of anyone else knowing and he knew Johann, at the least, knew to be discrete. 

He offered an awkward grin and nodded, quickly finishing the memo and closing the folder.  "I suppose we'll see, sir," he offered.  "I'm sure you have things you should be getting back to and I shouldn't take up more of your time."  He tucked the folder under his shoulder and pushed himself to his feet.