Had she not known Sellaphix to be joking about her committing - hadn't she heard that from someone else recently? - Moira would have rolled her eyes. She was here, not about to abandon him, and they both knew it.

Figaro fortunately didn't argue about searching more. He began walking further up the bank and before Moira thought to follow him a faint green glimmer barely submerged at the water's edge caught her eye. With no time to look she crouched down, scooped up the object along with a handful of mud, and began walking just before Fig turned to walk backwards. She half expected him to trip over a patch of grass as they went.

Something about Runespoors and the Sellaphix family sounded familiar from somewhere long ago. But that was where it stayed, in the past. For the moment what they needed, according to Fig, was that book.

"Aye. I was there about a week ago. Met your mum. She seems nice."

Glancing back at the muggle, hiding the faintest smirk, she checked their location. The muggle was far enough away, back at their car trying to fix their torch. Moira apparated to the apothecary with a faint crack.

8:15pm

"Wait what-!" Figaro shouted at the vacuum left by Moira's Apparition. He cracked away after her with haste.

He appeared in the street in front of his family's darkened shop and looked for Moira.

"Hey," he asked, this time in the Knockturn Whisper, a mode learned from many years of his parents' drilling a healthy fear of the neighborhood. He skirted over to her and steered her down the very narrow alley between the Apothecary and their neighbor. They'd enter through the back.

"What do you mean you met my mum. Why?" he asked as they arrived in the cramped back alley.

It wasn't that Figaro was embarrassed of his parents, but he preferred they didn't know too much about his personal life, especially lately as he hadn't been a model son since leaving Hogwarts. Plus, Zelda was ... intense. He started working through the seven locks on the back door before letting them both in.

The scratchy orange light from Knockturn's unreliable street lamps seeped in the shop's front windows, splitting and speckling through to the back hallway. Figaro opted out of turning on the lights - he didn't need anyone from the street thinking there was someone inside to pester.

When Figaro cracked into existence several steps away Moira looked over, mentally noting his perplexed expression. Her words appeared to have had the effect on him she'd predicted. Predicting responses could sometimes be too easy.

The witch said nothing as he steered her to the alley and into the back of the shop. She didn't blame him for leaving the lights off. It was easy enough to see from the street lights and this way they were less likely to attract unwanted attention.

Glancing around, Moira hadn't seen this portion of the shop during her visit, she waited a few beats to answer his question. "Hm? Oh, I was a customer in need of some ingredients and a potion. Your mum was very helpful." No further information was offered to the concerned wizard.

"Is there a sink I can use?" Once she learned where she nodded before walking into the little bathroom and turned on the water. Moira focused on washing off her hand and the object resting against her palm, curious to what it might be.

Figaro pointed out the tiny loo before trotting up the the stairs to the office.

"Why didn't you ask me?" he called down. "I'm ... helpful...!"

He'd been covering shifts at the shop since his Zelda got out of the hospital and had continued to give his parents a break now that Rafe was out of Azkaban. He'd helped Hannah Bombay, hadn't he? Oh god, that had been a night...

"Ha!" he barked a laugh. Moira and Zelda hanging out. What could be weirder?

The office was cramped and cluttered. Every surface was covered in papers, boxes, supplies, books, folders ... it was a mess. Controlled chaos, his dad called it. Even his mum, who was more of a packrat than she let on, seemed to be productive in this tip. The clutter was almost its own kind of security ward - thieves would spend all night rifling through it and never find what they were looking for. But Figaro was a Sellaphix, He was never allowed in here, but it had to be in his blood.

Figaro set down the broken bottle and began digging looking for the old book he was sure he'd seen before, a book about Runespoors.

"Merlin, how do they find anything in here...?"

"I came on a recommendation and you weren't keeping the shop when I did." Moira could only imagine at the unpleasantness were she to tell Fig who had 'recommended' the shop to her. Besides that, she didn't like giving out names for various reasons.

Moira listened to Fig rummage around somewhere upstairs as she turned off the water. She dried off her hands and the item that appeared to be some sort of token.

The unblemished silver gleamed in the low light despite having been in the muck. On one side sat an emblem of a three headed snake, clearly a Runespoor. Flipping the token over revealed nothing but a blank, smooth surface except for an ornate design around the edge. Running her thumb over the design she checked for anything familiar. The only thing she could place was that the design wasn't rune based.

Leaving the loo and climbing the stairs Moira turned it over between her fingers a few times. She debated with herself on showing her evening comrade the token. If something came of it he was bound to get excited and want to go hunt down the newest lead, but maybe she wasn't giving him enough credit.

At the moment there didn't seem to be anything malicious about it and she would have thought it belong to a lover of Runespoors. The token had glowed with Fig's spell.

Stopping at the door way she watched him rifle through a few items for a moment.

"I found this in the mud just before we left."

Figaro stood up from his searching like he was coming up for air. It was no use. Clearly his parents had cleaned house. Either that or it was in another of Zelda and Rafe's secret caches. That was probably it. Well.

"It's not here," he breathed, shaking his head. But Moira had found something! He approached and took the coin.

"Runespoor," he said, seeing what Moira had. He turned it over and, touched the smooth unmarked side. Fig handed it back, well pleased and questions about Moira and Zelda and their joint efforts to ruin his life forgotten for now.

"Well, that's obviously enchanted," he said. "What do you think it is?"

Moira nodded, accepting Figaro's conclusion that the book was not there. She didn't feel like spending hours helping him sort through everything. More likely than not she'd end up cleaning a pile or two and then the owners would know for sure someone had been looking through the room.

From what she had seen of Figaro's place he didn't care for organization. He wouldn't be their first conclusion.

Taking the token back from him once he was done she shook her head. "There's no telling."

Tucking it away in one of her pockets an idea struck her. "Unless it works sort of like the medical badges at St. Mungos. Communication?" Moira had sat waiting in their lobbies and rooms often enough she had to watch something.

"Brilliant," he said and clapped her on the shoulder. "Means we just have to find the other one."

Figaro looked at her smugly, his face saying it all: he was right about the code and he was right about bringing Moira. She was helping and she was liking it.

Before he walked out, he pulled open a desk drawer and took out a bag of cheesy crackers - there was always something stashed up here.

"Alright, let's go," he said. Before he walked out, he pulled open a desk drawer and took out a bag of cheesy crackers - there was always something stashed up here.

He popped a cracker in his mouth.  "If my mum knew I was here, she'd kill me. We really shouldn't even be out," he said, trotting down the stairs.

"It's a full moon, you know."

Moira met his smug look with her own impassive one.

"The chances of finding another one aren't great, you know. Pure chance I found this one and there's probably a lot more than just a pair. Smuggling rings include more than just two people after all." She made sure to emphasize the part about smuggling rings. Criminal activity. If she was right about the token there was real danger in doing this.

Moira watched as Fig descended the stairs with his crackers, not moving to immediately follow like back at the cafe. "Yes, I know. It's not my idea to be out there. I'd readily go home." And yet she stayed.

With a small sigh she made her way down the stairs.

Figaro led the way out the back of the shop into the chilly dark back-alley. He picked is way through fastening the seven locks and then double-checking them. He chattered as he did this.

"Time is a factor, Moira. The tip came in today and I think that means something. Like, why wait over a month? Some bloke with a creepy typewriter chooses today to compose a hidden message and blow the world open? Something's going down tonight. You go home though, mate," he said, sneaking a smile.

"Good luck sleeping wondering if your sweet Figaro is dead in a ditch somewhere."

Locks locked, he offered her some crackers. "Ever been on a stake-out? Better have some."

Standing back in the alley while he dealt with the locks Moira snorted at his comment. Figaro sweet? Pain in the arse and destroyer of normal schedules, more like.

"Yes, tonight. Perfect night to lure someone out to become werewolf food."

Moira shook her head, declining the crackers. "Not hungry. Where are we going now, exactly?"

Seeing movement from the corner of her eye she turned her head, staring hard for a moment, eyes slightly narrowed and alert. Nothing. Taking Fig by the elbow Moira began leading them away from the movement.

Figaro had heard it, too. He'd practically grown up at the shop, but Knockturn was not to be taken lightly. He'd learned that the hard way a few times. So he let Moira hurry them back out to the street where at least there was a street light and it would be safer to Apparate. Her comment about werewolves - yeah, he'd considered that risk. And... disregarded it. The chances, mathematically were so slim... right? Right.

"Going for the waxed man, the bloke from the code," he explained. "Only place I know of that has wax people is Madame Tussauds. You know it?"

It was one of those places that fascinated muggles and magic folk alike. A museum filled with wax sculptures of celebrities and historical figures, incredibly lifelike and frozen eerily stock still.

"My parents' place is only a ten minute walk from there. I think we should set up at the back door and see if anyone goes in. Long shot," he shrugged.

He knew Moira knew how to get to his family's house, so it seemed like a good place to Apparate.

Moira shook her head when he mentioned a place called Madame Tussauds. Seemed strange to her to call a place 'Madame' but that wasn't the oddest thing she had ever heard of.

Until her friends had started dragging her along the witch hadn't explored very many places. In fact, her first time seeing a play had only been a few months ago[1]. If it weren't for Sasha and Abby she still wouldn't have been to one.

When Figaro mentioned his parents place Moira gave him a side look. Both of his parents would be home this time instead of the house being empty. Hopefully they wouldn't hear them Apparate in and look out the window.

"Anywhere specific?" Once he told her she nodded, "See you there," and Apparated away.

In the backyard Moira, out of habit and curiosity, looked around. Their garden looked healthy even in December, which was no surprise. Cautiously she looked over at the house next to see if she could spot anyone at one of the windows, but most of the rooms were dark.

1.	More Devils Than Vast Hell

10pm

Figaro appeared, smiled to see Moira had made it, thinking back to how she'd handled getting him here all on her own under challenging circumstances this fall.

"Wait here. I just want to run and get something."

The backdoor opened into the kitchen. He could see the living room lights on down the hall.

"I'm a burglar!" he called to whichever of his parents was still up. They were both night owls despite the long hours they worked.

        "The good china's in the credenza," Zelda sang out, knowing full well it was her son.

It wasn't unusual for him to pop in from time to time to borrow something, grab clothes or things he'd left behind when he moved out, or, in this case, provisions for a stake-out. Figaro rifled through the kitchen cupboards and pulled out a tube of biscuits, crisps, and a nearly full bottle of green tea vodka. He shoved them all in a grocery sack and was back out the door.

"Right, let's go." Figaro led the way out of the back garden and out onto the street. They approached the patina'd copper dome of the world-famous waxworks.  They found their way to the roof of a nearby building close to the park where they could see a back entrance to the museum and were out of sight of muggle CCTV security cameras.

One muffling charm and a shadow enchantment and they were set up. Set up to ... wait.

10:30pm

Figaro set the bag of snacks between them and tried to get comfortable on the rooftop gravel. Below, a single lightbulb flickered on the loading dock. He popped the top off the green tea-flavored vodka and took a sip. Classy.

Handing it over to Moira, he brought it up not at all casualy.

"So truthfully, why were you at the apothecary? I thought we were friends," he said with a grin.

Moira watched Fig dash inside and shrank back a bit further into the darkness to wait patiently for his return. In the meantime, she observed and appreciated the different aspects of the garden and the layout of their backyard. On their farm there was the back half where her new and semi-furnished cottage stood, the garden, the paddocks, and so on. Yards were not included.

Sellaphix returned from the house and, wordlessly, Moira began walking with him to the Madam place.

Getting settled and comfortable on a roof turned out to be slightly more difficult than one might imagine. It wasn't as easy as settling onto an earthy patch and definitely not as comfortable. Eventually the two of them got as close to comfort as possible, and Moira did grab a bite from one of the snacks set up between them.

Accepting the offered vodka, though not her drink of choice, Moira took a small drink. She was in no position to complain. There wasn't a bottle of something better in her bag. Perhaps considerations on adding one, in case of emergencies, were in order.

Glancing over at his question she frowned some, "I told you the truth. I needed good and fresh ingredients that aren't always easy to find." There was no denying her habit of omitting key facts. Outright lying was something she tried to avoid unless there was no other way.

Something about that encounter still bothered her though. Moira looked to him curiously, "Does your mum normally give a few supplies away at no charge?"