Despite the girl's enthusiasm, Jonas somehow found her assurances that her older sister wouldn't mind his presence to be slightly suspect.  Though he had been professional - well, mostly professional - in his interactions so far with Aileen Reid, the Runes Professor didn't seem the sort to appreciate his sense of humor.  He doubted even more that Aileen would be interested in his take on Muggle archaeology, especially since his knowledge of the subject revolved entirely around stolen idols and beat-up fedoras.

"Ah, sure," he said, his smile faltering slightly.  At least the information that the Reids would be leaving soon for Cairo was helpful.  At this rate, Eleor was going to owe him even more than one drink. 

Oh well, he thought.  It was a chance to get more information, and how hard could archaeology be?

"I mean, I'd be happy to, as long as you don't think she'd be offended," he clarified, raising an eyebrow at Abby as he tried to think of something suitably archaeological to say.  "You know how some wizards get about Muggle things, yeah?  But it'd be an interesting comparison, it would," he continued cheerfully.  Temples.  Enormous rolling rocks.  Nazis.  It was awfully wizard-ish, in a lot of different ways.  "Muggles have to deal with cursed tombs and mummies too, only they don't have magic to fall back on.  Bet there's plenty to learn from 'em."

He would have happily gone on about ancient hexes and the extraordinary high death rates of Muggle tomb raiders, but it occurred to him that broaching such a subject with a young Squib who was about to brave archaeology for the first time herself was probably not the best way to give her confidence.  Instead, he paused, giving Abby a thoughtful look.

"When're you two planning to leave for Egypt?" he asked in an amiable tone.  "There ought to be a time we can meet up before that, isn't there?"

"Mmhmm," Abby nodded to whatever he said enthusiastically, barely listening anymore. She was busy scheming. It would take a few weeks, at least, to convince Aileen to go to a muggle museum. Maybe another week to convince her to let Mr. Trevelyan come with. But she could do it, she knew she could!

"When? Oh, oh definitely, we'll have time. Maybe next weekend? Or the weekend after?" Abby was all set to run and get the calendar Aileen had in her office and schedule a date, when she heard the familiar pop in the fireplace.

"Oh no, oh no oh no. Act natural!" she whispered, flouncing out of her seat and half-running, half-tiptoeing to the kitchen, where she flung the pomegranate-stained towel in a cabinet and ran back to the couch. She settled in her seat again, hands clasped primly on her knees, and looked up just as Aileen appeared in the foyer.

The last day of classes couldn't come soon enough. Aileen flooed home and set her things down with a sigh, glad to be rid of the huge stack of essays she needed to grade. When silence met her arrival, she glanced around, surprised but relieved that the crup hadn't appeared to yap at her. Perhaps Abby was out for a walk.

"Abby!" She called out, walking towards the foyer, where she paused upon finding the front door unlocked. A stab of fear went through her heart. Then she glanced quickly into the parlor room. Abby sat staring at her.

"How many times do I have to tell you-" that I didn't install the locks for my own health. Well, technically she did, but Aileen never got to finish that sentence. Surprise, then puzzlement crossed her features as she stood and looked at Jonas Trevelyan, sitting casually in the parlor with her sister. Aileen glanced at Abby. There was something about the way she sat, so still it was eerie. What was she hiding?

"Abigail," she forced a smile. "You should have owled me and told me we had a guest." Especially Jonas. Just looking at him brought worries about the cursed dagger to the front of her mind. Not to mention his smile just irritated her - overly cheerful.

But Abby was too quiet. Suddenly, her sister sprang up, and gave her that false grin that normally grated on her nerves. Aileen put a hand on her shoulder, "Is everything al-"

"Everything's fine!" Abby chirped, eyes darting towards the couch. Aileen's eyes narrowed. "I need to go let Roxy out. You two should talk! Catch up!" Abby giggled, glanced at Jonas. "See you later, Mr. Trevelyan!"

What in the - see you later?!

She was up the stairs in a flash. Without Roxy. The crup lifted her head up, licked the top of Jonas' shoe, and yawned.

Aileen shook her head and moved further into the room, studying the man as if the reason for his arrival could be found in his face. "Good evening," she greeted him stiffly, running a hand through her hair. This day would never end. "Did she offer you anything to drink?" Aileen raised her eyebrows at him, already heading towards the kitchen. Knowing her sister, she'd been too busy talking to think of it.

Jonas hadn't realized what a draw museums had for teenaged girls.  There had barely been a mention of the idea, and Abby was set to enthusiastically ink in a date.  He couldn't help but hope that Gwenna hit this phase soon.  As it was, the only places she ever wanted to visit when they were out and about for a day in the city were the Tower and the London Dungeons, but after the last mishap when she'd tried to bite through an unlucky leper's arm, Jonas had had to nix any future visits to anywhere with costumes.  He didn't want to think about what he would have to deal with if she should suddenly decide that one of the Beefeaters looked appetizing.

"Yes, well -" he started to say.  The next weekend was right before Christmas, so he'd probably have the kids, but before he could demure properly, there was a pop from the next room over and Abby had sprung into action.

She was quick, Jonas had to admit.  The teenager was in the other room and back again, evidence disposed of with nary a sound, before her sister even made it to the door of the foyer.  Useful knowledge as well; she must have had practice hiding things.  Maybe the youngest Reid had had the opportunity to learn more than he'd surmised.

If he hadn't expected the wet-shoe greeting from earlier, the look on Aileen Reid's face as she rounded the corner and caught sight of him was much more in line with what he'd been prepared for.  Abby, bless her heart, obviously had good instincts on when to abandon her post, although her excuse would have worked better if she'd taken the dog along.  Sighing, Jonas bent over to absently scratch the terrier's head in return for the shoe-licking.

"No, but I'm alright," he replied.  He wasn't going to risk alienating Abby by letting her older sister go anywhere near the pomegranate juice.  "Sorry about the unannounced visit, but I was hoping to catch you for a moment." 

Jonas paused, pressing his lips together thoughtfully.  This was all for the good of the Runespoor investigation, but that didn't make discussing the subject matter any easier.  "Unofficially," he said after a beat.  "And off the clock."

Aileen raised her eyebrows but took a seat across from him, in the same spot Abby had been. Jonas didn't seem bothered by the crup so she let Roxy stay in the room. Shifting slightly on the couch, she looked down to see that the cushion was slightly crooked and sticking out a bit farther than normal. Suspicion flashed in her eyes, but now was not the time to investigate. The crup was acting normal so she could only guess that Abby was the guilty party this time.

She focused on Jonas again as he looked thoughtful and went into 'professional mode', as she put it. Aileen liked him better that way, though it made her nervous. They both knew he wasn't just stopping by to say hello.

If this was about the dagger, she'd paid his fee and they'd wrapped that up nearly a month ago. Unofficial? And off the clock? Those words didn't do much to ease her worries.

"I have time," she nodded, adopting the professional mode as well. She crossed her legs and tried her best to look neutral, though she did glance up, hoping that Abby was actually in her room instead of listening at the top of the stairs. "What is this about?"

There were so many different possible ways to approach the conversation, and Jonas ran through most of them in his head.  He could try for humorous, he could be nonchalant, he could start building his case, but none of them would tell him what he wanted to know.  Well, if he were being honest, none of this was likely to tell him what he wanted to know, which was whether or not Professor Reid's brother was really involved in the smuggling ring.  But starting a conversation was certainly the means to that end.

This entire conversation was juggling priorities.  He wanted to gather information, certainly, but even if he didn't particularly want to talk about it, it would be useful to know why his magic was malfunctioning.  Jonas held that thought firmly in his mind as he glanced over to meet the Professor's gaze.

"The dagger," he said frankly.  Setting aside skepticism, and, well, logic and reason and likely the laws of physics, it did make sense.  Ward had gone on about hokey ancient curses, and while Jonas wasn't prepared to go on record as believing in them, if one applied Occam's razor, it did make sense.  Magic did surprising things sometimes; that, he'd learned years ago.

"You said there was a curse on it, yeah?"  He took the time to phrase his words carefully; putting thoughts in her head would make any information that he gathered here meaningless.  "Any idea on what sort of effect it might have?"

So this was about the dagger. Aileen's back stiffened defensively and her eyes narrowed. She didn't like being reminded of it, and appreciated even less that Jonas knew someone had broken into her home and stolen it. He'd returned it to her and she'd paid his fee, and that was that, in her mind.

When he asked what kind of effect the curse might have, she was quiet for a moment.

"The dagger is ceremonial. It was made to be buried with the subject," Aileen explained, deciding that it couldn't hurt to tell him this part.

"It acts as a defensive barrier; one of the last between what they consider to be grave robbers and their deceased pharaoh. Judging by the nature of the magic itself, I'd say... it's supposed to diminish a person's vitality. Their lifespan, maybe, because they lived for an unnaturally long time, even for wizards. So rather than being offensive or blatantly aggressive, the curse is more subtle... it won't send in plagues or storms or other consequences we might expect." Despite that, she was steadfastly ignoring the sudden appearance of frogs in the loos of Hogwarts in early December. Now way was that connected, she told herself.

Aileen studied him cautiously. "That's my theory, anyway." One she expected him to keep to himself. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh, you know," Jonas said breezily.  In the back of his mind, a very small voice was helpfully pointing out that the best time to be a smartarse probably wasn't when he was talking to a woman who not only didn't have any sense of humor to speak of, but was his last and best hope to ever wield a wand again, but he ignored it out of habit.  There was a good reason why he didn't get many repeat customers.  "Collecting bits of esoteric knowledge - everyone needs a hobby.  Reckoned that that would be a good one to add to the compilation!" he added cheerfully.  "Might not be quite as good to whip out in a conversation as oophagy, but it'll come close, yeah?"

This entire mess sounded like something out of a bad movie, although it unfortunately made more sense.  Ceremonial dagger.  Defensive barrier.  Diminishes vitality.  He could connect the dots easily enough now, and Jonas wanted to bloody kick someone.  Of course, if the ancient Egyptian wizards were looking to diminish someone, they'd take away his goddamned magic.  Why the hell else would a person have any worth if he couldn't twitch a bloody stick and make teakettles whistle?  He would have liked to take said stick and put it somewhere that unfortunately was now likely either rotted or protected by mummification, but it felt too much like giving in to their forced societal norms.

He sighed, running both hands through his hair, and forced on to the uncomfortable part of the conversation.

"I haven't been able to cast a spell in weeks."  It was convenient that the room was so large, because it gave him plenty of places to look besides the Runes professor.  Jonas gave his best nonchalant shrug to show how little he cared.  "The timing seemed to match up, and when I spoke to a bloke I know about hypothetical causes, he suggested some sort of curse might have had something to do with it."

"And I've checked everything else it could have been," he added, a defensive hint creeping into his voice.  "It's not the wand.  It's me.  I can't see what's so bloody subtle about that, though.  Like running up a white flag, innit?"

"The timing seemed to match up," Aileen repeated flatly, eyes cold. It was a statement she could latch onto that justified the fury bubbling in her chest.

The fact that he'd helped her get the artifact back in the first place was the only thing that kept her from kicking him out of the house. But Jonas Trevelyan was walking a very thin line indeed. His cheekiness to her response earlier had surprised and annoyed her... that was nothing compared to this accusation!

She'd heard about the 'magical epidemic', of course. Aileen simply didn't see it as something that affected her. She'd suffered no ill effects. The artifact had nothing to do with it. She ignored the tendrils of fear that snaked up her spine, telling her that in a strange way, it made sense. The pieces fit.

No. She couldn't accept that.

Aileen recrossed her legs and glanced in the direction of the stairs. She then leaned forward and spoke very quietly. "I don't know what you're trying to do, but rest assured it won't work. You found the artifact. I paid your fee. As far as I'm concerned, we're done."

Her eyes narrowed.

"Or is this normal for you, showing up and alarming your previous clients with outrageous sob stories?" The sarcastic, mocking tone in her voice was unmistakable. Perhaps the lack of repeat clients was why his office had been in such a sorry state. Muggle London. Really.

He had to want more money, she thought. Jonas had taken a ridiculously long time finding and securing the dagger, but she'd ignored it because she'd been desperate. She also had to assume that during the investigation, he'd found out she wasn't supposed to have the dagger in the first place. Merlin, she'd been a fool. But he was not going to blackmail her, or whatever game he was playing. She'd even beg her brother Trevor to get her out of this if she had to.

Still... trickery and blackmail didn't seem like him. As annoying as Jonas was, Aileen hadn't thought he'd stoop so low. Just went to show she needed to keep up her guard, even around the bumbling cheerful types.

In an instant, Jonas remembered everything that he hated about so-called purebloods.  The attitude.  The rejection of the proper reality, only to substitute their own.  If something didn't fit with their version of existence, it was promptly ruled out; everything was changed to fit the way that they wanted to see things.  It was ridiculously conceited, amazingly posh, and having to put up with it made him want to turn around and walk out.  They'd see how the bloody purebloods felt when their world was really as isolated as they seemed to want it.

He straightened in the chair, his expression going carefully passive, as he narrowed his eyes at Aileen Reid.  "Yeah, because there's a great business strategy," he snapped.  If it wouldn't have come across as so aggressive, he would have risen to his feet; as it was, he had to remind himself that this wasn't the reason he was here.  He was here to gather information.

The private investigator took a deep breath, reminded himself that even if it was personal, it couldn't be, and bit back the rest of his retort.

"I came here out of courtesy instead of going to the Ministry," he informed the scholar in a low voice.  Any remnants of humor were completely gone from expression or tone.  "Which I could've right well done, but then they would've asked me if I thought I had any idea what caused this, and that's a knock on your door, innit?"

Which wasn't necessarily the worst result for his purposes.  If her brother had helped her smuggle the artifacts into the country, or tried to bail her out now, it would be another black mark that they could use against him.  Normally, Jonas imagined that the illegal artifacts trade was barely a blip on the Ministry's radar, but with the Runespoor case growing, he had no doubt that the Aurors would leave no stone unturned.

But it wasn't the way that they wanted to get Trevor Reid.  They needed an in.  They needed a source of information.

"Look," he said, forcing himself to swallow any measure of pride.  Eleor officially owed him far more than alcohol could ever repay.  "I need help.  I can't do me job if I can't even cast a spell.  You got any idea on how to undo this?  If it doesn't work, I'll be right off, and I'll try to come up with an explanation to give them besides the dagger."

Her eyes narrowed to match his. He seemed genuinely offended that she'd think so badly of him, which caused her the mildest of smug satisfaction.

Jonas then claimed that he came to her first instead of going to the Ministry, presumably out of courtesy. Aileen was unmoved. She simply saw his statement as another threat, as saying 'I could easily do this, but instead I'm going to play games with you until I get what I want'. Smart move, on his part. Despite the anger glinting in her eyes, deep down, fear simmered. No one did something just for the sake of being decent, no matter how they dressed it up. If he didn't want money, what was it? Obviously they irritated the hell out of each other, so any romantic intentions were laughable. But she didn't have time to think about it. He brought up his lack of magic again.

She studied his face, mentally going over everything she knew about him through their interactions. Jonas was usually confident, cheerfully matter of fact, unerringly logical. Right now, he looked as grim as death. And he just wasn't someone she pegged for being dishonest or malicous... discreet with his work, yes (she hoped!), but he hadn't yet asked for anything. Anything but help.

Perhaps... perhaps she had jumped to conclusions. Just a tiny bit.

Her eyes widened for a second. She subconsciously touched a hand to her heart. "You're serious."

Aileen didn't dare apologize. It would mean taking responsibility, taking the blame, admitting that she'd messed up. Messed up more than Trevor had, surely, more than even Simon ever had.

Her face drained of color. She could look into it, at the very least, only to rule out that it wasn't her dagger that had caused his magical loss. Wasn't her fault.

"If you didn't go to the Ministry..." Aileen began suspiciously, collecting herself as she remembered something he'd mentioned before. "Which... bloke did you talk to about this?" His lingo, though British, sounded funny coming from her. Her voice had turned icy again. Bollocks or not, if Jonas ended up going to the Ministry, her career was over and she was done.

If he hadn't already been playing the part, trying to act humble and helpless, Jonas wouldn't have stood a chance of biting back the retort.  No, of course he wasn't serious about this; it just seemed like something funny to say at the time.  What self-abiding wizard would ever even consider claiming that they'd lost their ability to wield a wand? 

From the time they entered Hogwarts, magic became the essential piece to their identity.  It made them special.  It turned them into something more.  Jonas had no doubt that that ever-so-basic shift in values was why even most Muggle-borns bought in to the pureblooded brainwashing, why they turned their back on normal society and submerged themselves in the magical world.  If he hadn't been forced to leave when he was, he had no doubt that he would have stayed embedded in wizarding society, married within the community, gone on with his life without ever setting foot in the real world.

The thought of it drove him barmy.  Even if Gwenna or Artie were magical - and he had his doubts, since he'd essentially been a family fluke - he wasn't entirely sure that he wanted them getting sucked into that life.  Once a child set foot in Hogwarts, once they were told that they were special, that they had no place in the normal world, they were essentially ruined.  They never stood a chance of making a choice.  It was magic or nothing.

But even knowing that, even though he was fully aware that he could go back to his life as an entirely magic-less private investigator and never look back, the thought that he couldn't cast a simple spell was still irritating.  It felt like being cuckolded; like having his wings clipped.  Some essential part of him had been taken away, and as loathe as he was to admit it, it frustrated him beyond belief.

"An old mate from school," he replied automatically.  He wasn't about to drop Dante Ward's name.  Friend or not, talking to an Unspeakable was probably as good as going to the Ministry.  "But I didn't give him details.  I tried to make it sound like it was someone else, or just a hypothetical."

He paused, then looked up at her, trying not to look as if he were studying her expression.  At least she appeared to be taking this seriously, rather than questioning his customer service skills.

"Think you can help?" he asked carefully, his forehead creasing.  "Reckon that's me best hope, unless you know someone at the Ministry who'd be able to help deal off the records.  You've got to know your way around ancient curses, yeah?"

Aileen gave him a suspicious look when he answered her vaguely, saying he'd met with some bloke from school. Lovely. He claimed that he didn't give him details, and Aileen hoped to Merlin he hadn't, because she did not want to think about him spreading this news around.

As much as she hated to admit it, it was in her best interest to help him. If she didn't, he had no choice but to go to the Ministry. Seek out other options. Blather on about the cursed dagger and ruin her.

There was still a shred of hope that it wasn't the dagger at all. She clung onto that like it was her lifeline. She'd prove him wrong, and then Jonas Trevelyan would no longer be her concern.

Aileen just needed to rule it out. Free herself from blame.

She was very, very good at that.

Aileen drew in a breath, kept her eyes on his. "I"ll look into it."

Before he could get too excited and kiss her feet in gratitude (ha), she held up a hand. "I'll look into it, at the very least. I'm sure you've been... thorough," By the hesitation, it was clear she thought otherwise. "But as you said, I'm familiar with ancient curses, so I might catch a few things that you or your 'mate from school' missed," she added dryly.

"I also need to make sure that we're actually dealing with the dagger and not some other cause," Aileen raised her eyebrows at him. "I doubt I'll be much help to you if it's something else." This was her way of telling him that he was on his own if she found no connection to the dagger.

"I'm making a short trip back to Egypt at the end of December, so perhaps that will provide some clues. With any luck, however, we can solve this before then."

Funny how the tables turned. Aileen had no idea how he managed to keep clients with this magical problem of his, but then again, she had other things to worry about. Like his mouth. If she could just prove that she wasn't responsible, he could move on to his next theory and she'd be in the clear. He'd never darken her doorstep again! She almost smiled at the thought.

It was really too bad, Jonas thought as he levered himself to his feet, that Abby Reid had been born into a family like this.  He liked the teenaged girl immensely - she was personable, funny, and she seemed to genuinely care for her elder sister.  Aileen Reid, in contrast, struck him as cold and uncaring.  At least he didn't have to feel guilty about using her to get information on her older brother.

"Well, there's a load off me shoulders," he replied good-naturedly.  So she'd be gone to Egypt - that was another tidbit to pass on to Eleor.  He knew enough about the woman's standard home defenses that he could probably make things a bloody hell of a lot easier for the Ministry if they wanted to poke around while she was gone, though he had no doubt that she'd stepped up her security spells since the robbery.  Even so, if this kept up, he was going to be the Israeli Auror's best mate by Twelfth Night.

"Tell you what," he said, raising an eyebrow as he regarded her.  "Why don't you owl me on Monday to let me know what you've found?  That gives you the weekend to look into it.  Since obviously this'll be a priority," he added, smiling slightly. 

He had no doubt that it wouldn't be, but he could toss a deadline in for effect.  It was too bad that the bloody dagger hadn't mussed up her magic - that would get him answers in a hurry.

"And that way, I can keep meself from panicking and scurrying off to the Ministry," he added cheerfully, tucking his hands into his pockets as he turned towards the door.  "When're you leaving for Egypt?  It'll be nice to get this settled by then."

"I'm leaving the 26th," Aileen informed him coldly, not bothering to tell him when she'd be back. "And yes, it would be very nice to get this settled by then."

She swore to Merlin though, if he was going to be annoying about it and rub the Ministry in her face every chance he got, she was not going to make this easy for him! Not that she planned to be especially agreeable in the first place. But Aileen could be petty. Very petty.

Their meetings rarely ended on a good note, and this time was no exception. Aileen opened the front door for him, mouth twisting to the side, as if she were debating getting the last word in.

Of course, she couldn't resist.

"And you'll receive an owl when I send an owl," she lifted her chin at him. "Sometime next week. Could be Monday, could be Tuesday," she mimicked his overly cheerful tone for a moment. "Scurrying to the Ministry before I have a chance to look into things won't help you," she reminded him. "Goodbye, Mr. Trevelyan," and with that, she shut the door.