Jonas had realized years ago that there was only so much time he could spend in his unfortunately confining office before his head would quite literally explode.  It had been a long and trying week.  As entertaining as chasing up a stolen Egyptian dagger might be, it didn't pay the bills the way his regular corporate clients did, and so he'd had to turn his attention back to the more usual work. 

But now it was finally Sunday, and he'd decided to celebrate by rededicating himself to the hunt provided that it got him out of the tiny office.  He'd gathered up all the books on magic that he had and had ended up at a coffee shop not far from Diagon Alley.  Ordering had proven to be a bit of a challenge, as Jonas could never remember which chain wanted him to use precisely which language when specifying his cup size, milk choice, and specific caffeine intake.  It had taken a long and trying conversation to finally lay claim to the hard-won drink. 

The red-haired man gave an unembarrassed wave to the annoyed customers who had been stuck queueing behind him as he walked over to the one unoccupied table, tucked out of the way beneath a window.  Most of the other patrons were university students taking advantage of the weekend to catch up on their reading, so he didn't feel entirely out of place as he dumped his collection of spellbooks and volumes on Ancient Egypt onto the table and took a seat. 

The hunt for the dagger had gone cold, not that he was prepared to admit that to Professor Aileen Reid.  All of his investigative efforts had led to dead end after frustrating dead end.  No matter whom Jonas asked, no matter which doors he knocked on or which files he dug through, it was if the mysterious thief had disappeared cleanly into thin air - which meant that it was time to try a different tack.  He took a sip of whatever highly caffeinated beverage he'd managed to order, and then set the ceramic cup down on the table as he picked up the first book.  If no one could tell him who might desire the dagger, then he was bloody well going to read everything relevant that he could get his hands on until he could put the pieces together himself.

As he opened the book, Jonas kicked his feet up on the chair opposite.  He flipped through to the index to find his place, and then began reading about the mysterious wizards of Ancient Egypt.

The only enjoyable weekends where the ones where he actually managed to have things go well with his personal research.  This one not one of those weekends, and Dante found himself needing a quick escape from his flat.  Since Friday night it seemed nothing had gone as planned.  He was supposed to be among those who were currently considered the best in the field of potions, but his current ‘project’ had him stumped.  This was not a usual occurrence and he found it to be quite an irritating one.  So, with a potion’s text disguised so the cover would appear like any other Muggle text, he entered the coffee shop a few blocks from where he lived.

Coffee in hand, he turned to find a comfortable spot to settle into his reading when his eyes fell upon a somewhat familiar form. They had been a few years apart in school, but there had been a couple brief interactions since then.  Normally he would have taken his reading to another corner, but the stack of books Jonas had caught his eye and Dante had to resist the urge to give a slight groan.  Sometimes members of the magical community were just asking to be discovered.

Crossing the shop he stopped before the table and said in a bit of a hushed tone, “Not exactly the most discrete way to go about your work Trevelyan.  When did you suddenly get so interested in Egypt?”

If Jonas had been one of his employees the greeting probably would not have been nearly as friendly.  He tended to keep a tight reign within the Department of Mysteries…as much as he could anyway.  Thankfully that was not the case and curiosity could get the better of him.  That was of course providing that the Muggles who were also using the shop as their personal study space didn’t become too involved in their conversation.

If the other man's voice had been much louder, Jonas would have gone a long way towards upending the table and all of his books and the hard-won cup of coffee with it as he jolted to his feet.  As it was, he managed to keep himself from starting too badly.  His eyes flicked up to the other man, taking him in for the barest of instants, and then past Dante into the rest of the coffee shop.

"Sorry, Ward," he replied, his attention focused on the other patrons as he looked them over more carefully.  It was incredible how easy it was to fall out of certain habits.  Most of a decade ago, he would have been too cautious to be caught unaware.  "I reckon I missed the memo that reading in public warrants a full investigation by the Unspeakables now.  You blokes take your Statute of Secrecy seriously, yeah?"

There were no other wands visible in the crowd, nor was there anyone standing with the nervous unease of a wizard attempting to blend in with the mundane.  Jonas relaxed slightly.  Next time, he was going to sit with his back to the wall, no matter how obvious that made him look.

"It's been a bit, hasn't it?" he asked, his tone considerably more cheerful as he took his feet off the opposite chair.  He kicked it out, inviting the older man to sit down with a nod.  "And what can I say?  It's a hobby.  I'm hoping that if I stare at the pictures for long enough, all of the birds and squiggle lines will start to make sense."

If he was the sort he might have found the fact that he managed to scare the other man amusing.  A few of the nearby patrons looked over at them for a moment, but he ignored them.  There wasn't really anything of interest to them going on, and they quickly returned to their own conversation or reading.  He did however, manage a slight smirk at the greeting.

"Relax," he said a little smugly.  "Even I take some sort of break on the weekend."

Of course that just meant he was pursuing projects not funded by the Ministry.  As he sat he quirked an eyebrow when Jonas called the reading on Egypt a hobby, seating himself in the offered chair.  He couldn't say he knew too terribly much about the magic of Ancient Egypt, although he had borrowed a few techniques discovered in potion brewing.  It tended to be extremely powerful, but also difficult to fully understand.

He hadn't set out to make this a social outing, but when faced with nothing to show for his weekend but frustrations it seemed better this way.  Something to take his mind off of the fact things had not gone according to his careful plan.  Sometimes no amount of lists and notes could make something go the way he wanted.

"If you stare at them long enough you might also have a good shot at seeing one fly off the page," he quipped dryly.

Jonas chuckled, flashing the other man an appreciative smile as he glanced down at the book.  "I think it might need a different sort of drink for that to manage itself," he said easily, pressing the spine to flatten the volume on the table.  "Not that I'd argue if that's what was required.  I just reckon that this is one of those times when it would have been more useful to take Runes instead of Muggle Studies for all those years."

The book disappointingly had very few pictures, not that Jonas thought that they would help very much even if they had been there.  He really couldn't say what specifically he was looking for - some sort of information that would jump out at him, tell him who had taken the dagger or for what purpose.  But unfortunately, he thought dryly, the book's author had not thought to include such useful topics in the index.

Sighing, he swallowed his frustration and gave the Unspeakable a friendly smile instead. 

"Don't know much about it yourself, do you?" he asked cheerfully.  "It seems the sort of thing you blokes would be on top of in Level 9.  You know," he said, gesturing helpfully with one hand to clarify.  "Rotting corpses, mysterious artifacts, body parts preserved in jars for eternity.  You must see a lot of it, yeah?"

“I see a lot of everything,” Dante commented dryly, “and not all of it is useful.”

For every discovery, for every break through, there tended to be a long list of dead ends and failures.  It came with the territory, and after all his years in Level Nine he had more then accepted that.  Of course, it didn’t make those dead ends less of a headache.  Really it just created more paperwork, much to his immense displeasure, but at the end of the day it had to be done by someone.

“I know enough though to sort through and figure out the promising facts from the completely absurd.  We haven’t any rotting corpses come through lately though…so what’s with the sudden interest?” he asked.

There was some tablet a few months back believed to have contained a healing potion.  That one was still being tested and worked on, two dozen exploding cauldrons later.  One of those had even landed one of his Unspeakables in St. Mungo’s for a week, and reconfirmed what he had known all along about the ancient world.

“This sort of magic isn’t something to be taken lightly,” he said, keeping his voice low.  “I’ve seen smart, capable witches and wizards end up in extremely dangerous positions while trying to sort out what seemed to be relatively straight foreword.”

If Jonas had been ten years younger, he allowed that he might have taken offense at the implication that he shouldn't be considered amongst the ranks of the smart and capable.  But the years had taught him quite a bit, not the least of which was humility in the face of possible unintended insult.  He settled for flashing the Unspeakable a bemused grin.

"Yeah, it's always a bit ironic how that happens, innit?" he asked cheerily.  "Think you know everything about A and B, and then Part C rises from the abyss to bite you from behind.  Don't you blokes have procedures in place to keep that from happening?"

He had promised his client complete discretion.  But not giving specifics was getting him nothing beyond exceeding frustration, and besides, one would think that the amount of discretion should be at his own discretion, shouldn't it?  Jonas had asked around enough that if Dante really wanted to put two and two together, the Unspeakable could probably do some legwork and find out what the red-haired man was after.

Jonas shrugged, closing his book as he leaned back in the chair.  "The magic doesn't interest me too much," he said, completely missing Dante's cue to lower his voice.  "I was more interested in finding out about some of the artifacts.  What they do, why someone would want them, you know?"

"First thing I remind my Unspeakables of is that we are not infallible.  We don't know everything, as much as we'd like to think we do.  And sometimes, despite our procedures, the unexpected will, as you said, bite you from behind," Dante responded.

He hated admitting that sometimes.  He hated the fact that at the end of the day he was human and could make mistakes just like the next person.  The years had, however, given him plenty of experience of how to make sure the to work within the procedures to ensure the least amount of damage when those moments happened.  Thanks to those who let their egos get in the way, damage control was something he was used to.

I was more interested in finding out about some of the artifacts.  What they do, why someone would want them, you know?

Taking a sip of coffee he leaned back in the chair a moment thinking over what Jonas had said.  That wasn't the sort of information one found in books, at least not the sort you could buy in Diagon Alley.  Usually that sort of information required venturing to stores known for a slightly twisted view of morality.  Setting the coffee down again he tried not to appear totally annoyed that the other man seemed incapable to keeping his voice down.

"That's not really something one finds too easily," he told him.  "Off the record I'd say that you would be better off finding yourself a contact in Knockturn Alley then reading books."

Jonas's forehead creased as the other man spoke.  Advice on how to skirt around the boundaries of the law hadn't really been what he was expecting when he'd brought the subject up.  Dire warnings about what it meant to meddle with the very magical fabric of ancient thaumaturgy, certainly.  But a practical suggestion to cultivate contacts in Knockturn?  Perhaps the Unspeakables had loosened their lips a bit over the course of the last decade.

"Yeah, I tried that bit off the record," he replied, flashing the other man a smile to show that he approved of his train of thought.  "Or sort of tried it, anyhow.  Rang up a place that had a reputation for the dark, but I got told by the owner that we don't handle that sort of thing anymore and got sent on me merry way."

Which was a bit of a merry synopsis of what had really happened in Ireland, but in his defense, Jonas thought, at least it was fairly accurate, minus him leaving out the part where he had been threatened with death and dismemberment if he ever bothered that particular individual again.

He studied Dante thoughtfully for a moment, and then mentally shrugged.  What harm could there be in asking?

"Don't happen to know any place where I might be able to get information on the matter, do you?" he inquired.  "I'm a bit out of touch with Knockturn, to be honest.  It's hard to get blokes to talk when you're not quite sure what you're looking for."

Dante knew he had to tread carefully.  To keep the Department of Mysteries running smoothly and to keep making progress there that been plenty of times over the years he had been forced to blur the lines of what was legally acceptable.  There were also plenty of times he had been forced to turn a blind eye to things his personal morality might not approve of, especially when he knew professional things had to continue on as they had before.

“If I found myself wandering into unfamiliar areas of questionable repute while searching for information, I’d find the nearest local pub and try to make friends with the bartender,” he told him.  “It’s not always a sure bet, and it takes a bit of time, but most bartenders will know every regular client and their specialties.  If you prove yourself a good patron they’re usually more then happy to point you in the right direction.”

He couldn’t simply give out the names of his own sources.  There were carefully cultivated and fragile acquaintances that had been quite useful over the years and he wasn’t about to give that up.

“Of course you’ll want to be sure the bartender doesn’t know you from your days down on Level Two,” he added after a moment.

The conversation had proven to be much more helpful than Jonas had expected.  He flashed the Unspeakable a lopsided smile, tipping his hat slightly in a gesture of appreciation.

"And here I was, thinking I should waltz inside all dressed up in the red cloak and flashing around I.D. just like the old days," he replied bemusedly.  "I can't imagine that that wouldn't get me anywhere."  It had, after all, worked so well the last time he'd tried it.  The wizarding world's expressions of love and appreciation for Aurors was sometimes overwhelming. 

"No worries, mate," he added matter-of-factly, giving Dante a nod.  "I'm a private citizen now.  There must be a bloke or two who's taken up a post since the war ended.  If I end up out that way, I'll give somewhere new a try."

Cultivating relationships took time, obviously.  Jonas could hardly expect to saunter in to the first pub he saw and get every question answered.  But the Unspeakable had as good as told him that that's where the information was, and every relationship had to start somewhere.  If he didn't ask, he'd never find out.

Although with his current company's profession, there was one more avenue he could try.

"You know, not that it matters," he remarked off-handedly, his brow furrowing, "but you haven't heard of anyone in particular on Level Nine who might be interested in anything Egyptian, have you, Ward?  I know you lot have all kinds of different hobbies.  There's nothing that's come up recently, is there?"

Dante smirked slightly at the response, taking another sip of his coffee.  It was the closest thing anyone would ever see to a display of a sense of humor from him.  Of course if the sarcasm had come from a member of his own department they wouldn't have even gotten that.  The carefully schooled scowl he usually wore was second nature now and rarely broken.

However, scowl returned at the mention of Level Nine.  It came with the territory, those who knew where he worked tended to ask questions he couldn't answer.  There was a reason those in his department were called Unspeakables.

"I'm not really at liberty to discuss Level Nine, even off the record," he said.  "At least not anything I've seen come across my desk in a report."

It was one of those convenient things in his life that kept most others at a distance.  He couldn't discuss his work outside the office, and most people didn't understand that.  The fastest way to end a conversation tended to be the mere response of, 'unfortunately that information is classified.'

"Of course, that's not to say I couldn't ask one of my Unspeakables about a specific case that Ministry isn't involved with," he added after a moment.

The refusal to discuss anything on Level Nine was expected - the blokes who worked there weren't called Unspeakables for no reason, although Jonas didn't always understand why they had to toe the line so fervently - but the pronoun shift was not.  My Unspeakables.  He regarded the other man with a careful eye, considering his options. 

Dante Ward had worked at the Ministry since before Jonas's time, so it would make sense that the older man had worked his way up in the ranks.  That meant that the investigator had to tread carefully here.  The entire reason that Aileen Reid had come to him was because she didn't want Ministry attention.  But this was too good of an opportunity to get information, and so far, Ward had been exceedingly helpful without any reason to be.

"I've spent the last few years working as a private investigator for hire," he said after a moment, watching the other man carefully.  "Mostly Muggle cases, but some have been for wizards.  I got hired on about a month ago to find an item that had been stolen from a private collection.  The thief's trail dried up right quick, so I reckoned I could check the other angle and try to find the buyer."

It would be easy enough for the Unspeakable to read between the lines and guess what had been stolen.  Ward was a smart bloke; he could put the pieces together.

"That something you might be able to ask your Unspeakables about?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.  If Dante couldn't ask, at least it would tell him that the Ministry was involved, which Jonas doubted.  "If you get any bits you could pass on, I reckon I'd be grateful."

Dante gave a slight nod of understanding.  There was a certain amount of secrecy he assumed would go along with the other man’s work, much as his own with Level Nine.  There were things that could be discussed in vague terms and others that had to be left carefully locked away.  The one way for someone outside Level Nine to test if an Unspeakable knew anything on a given subject was to find out if they were ‘at liberty’ to speak on the matter.

“There are a variety of personal side projects I have some vague knowledge my employees dabbling in,” he said, knowing he could think of at least one or two who would know of any artifacts that might have recently been on the market.  “As long as nothing ends up coming through my department to be researched in an official context I can do a bit of asking.”

Whoever had hired the other man had probably wanted things to continue to be under the Ministry’s radar.  He could understand that in some way, having been a part of it for so long.  Level Nine in particular had a long history of twisting moral boundaries for their own purposes.  His curiosity was peaked though personally on this matter, not professionally.
 

Jonas flashed the other man a quick, genuine smile, tossing off a two-fingered salute in thanks as he picked up his copy.  "Well, any asking that you can do, I'll appreciate," he said amiably.  "The office isn't far from here, so you can drop by or send an owl."

Although if he were going to be receiving regular avian visitors, Jonas thought as he dug in his pocket for a business card, he was going to have to come up with a better solution than just leaving the small window in the bathroom open.  The old man who ran the ground floor bookstore in the building that he rented out of wasn't particularly observant, but it would be hard to miss frequent owls flitting in and out during business hours.

"And thanks," he added, as he passed Dante the card.  "You ever need a favor in return, just let me know, Ward.  As long as it's not in an official context, that is," he clarified, looking bemused.