Archer had heard things – disturbing things.  Since he had increased the pressure on his ear to the ground, he couldn’t believe some of the things he was hearing.  So, he just had to investigate.  Hearing that Jonas Trevelyan had been frequenting the Black Chimera was unsettling on several levels.  One, the Ginger was a Muggleborn.  It was common knowledge as far as his old partner was concerned and that was like signing over his own life – the man really must have hit rock bottom if he had such a death wish hanging about his head.  Of course, if he were suicidal, that would at least be somewhat comforting in the face of another possibility. 

It was bizarre that after so many years completely unheard until recently.  Until all of these new, dangerous cases were popping up – and it had been quite the curiosity when Archer spied a pile of papers marked to recertify Trevelyan for Level 2 access.  Now, Archer had been the man’s partner for several years and did not think it possible he could willingly get involved in something like this, but he also recognized there were other possibilities – more sinister ones.  If he weren’t already swamped with work he might have been hesitant to take on something else, but right now? What was one more thing? 

So, walking out of Diagon Alley, Archer resented the fully muggle ensemble he was sporting, missing the cloak in favor of a much smaller coat.  Really, Muggles had to learn something about keeping warm – and he was almost never cold, that was usually Tamis’ gig, being cold.  The dragon hide gloves were doing something, but he even had to put his hands in his pockets.  Archer looked around the street.  He was looking for a sign – REED & WRIGHT.  Hah.  Very funny, he noted, with a bit of a huff, going fairly quickly down the street.  Glancing upward, Archer finally saw the sign, swaying and swinging with the winter wind, the creaking of the iron holding it up the only sound on the fairly deserted street.

Apparently all the New Years Eve celebrators were still curled up in bed.  Not Archer, however, who had woken up bright and early to get this information taken care of.  Thankfully, it was very easy to sneak out – except for Rufus, who was apt to pee on the floor, but it’d be fine.  The dog was the best present he could imagine, and he wanted to train him to be functional as well as awesome, a dark magic sniffer (also convenient for taking him to the office), but he was still a puppy and like all puppies, slipped up a tad from time to time.

He couldn’t worry about it now though and ascended the small stoop towards the bookstore.  Putting his hand on the knob, he lowered his voice to order it open, his wand clutched in front of him with his other hand, just in case.  One could never be too careful, especially if something nefarious was going on here.  But, when the door opened, nothing jumped out or hit him or tried to scare him away.  It was just a bookshop – abandoned by the looks of it, or at least suffering from a lack of clients.  Trevelyan would be the man to work in a place like this – dusty, but functional. 

He knew this was not the front part of the office though.  From a bit of research, he found that the ginger occupied the upper levels, and shutting the door behind him – relocking it with a tap of his wand, Archer moved through the dust, frowning as his footprints were left.  He waved his wand to restore the dust, but it did not quite look exactly the same.  Go figure.  Trevelyan might not even notice.  But, he didn’t want to leave much trace that he had been there at all.

Moving up the stairs, Archer looked around – there did not appear to be any magical devices at all.  Frowning, he wondered what was in store for him.  Did Trevelyan protect this place at all or was he just psyching everyone out?  He had his wand at the ready, just in case.  As he reached the door leading to the upstairs, he waved his wand over it, checking for charms or anything – nothing.  Raising his eyebrows, he tapped it gently, opening it up, and pushing it in – waiting for something, anything. 

Nothing came.  Archer did not understand what this was.  Trevelyan had been an auror at one point and didn’t protect anything!  Frowning to himself, he shrugged and walked in.  It obviously didn’t matter to him, it made his life easier, but it was slightly disappointing, trying to break in and having such an easy time of it.  It got rid of almost all the appeal of breaking in.  He supposed this was why thieves always tried to rob the biggest target – the thrill.

Archer wasn’t looking for a thrill though, he was looking for information.  So he set about on his mission, keeping his wand in his left hand and started to use the gloved hand to pick up files and look at titles.  He frowned gently – he was very disorganized (the Tamis influence rubbing off on him) and some of the files lacked names or were only numbered.  He would have to do a good job going through this.  Sitting at the desk, he decided he could take a few minutes, Trevelyan had a family, he wouldn’t be here today.  He started to pour through the files, trying to find anything he could use and having one hell of a time trying to do it.

The new year was only a few hours old, and already Jonas could tell that he was going to love 2009.  It had taken him a good forty minutes to get back across the city, he'd nearly hit two wobbly pedestrians who had leaped out in front of his automobile on the way, and there had been a good twenty minutes while the search for parking seemed liable to last until 2010 judging by the utter and complete lack of any free curb space, and he still felt unbelievably cheerful as he made the fifteen minute hike back to the office.

Not even the bitter chill in the air or the fact that he'd forgotten his coat back at the house could daunt him, he thought cheerily as he approached the once-home of Reed and Wright.  The used book shop that occupied the ground floor of the building was dark, but that was unsurprising; it was New Year's Day, after all, and only the mad or the incredibly lucky would be out this early in the morning. 

Still, it had been closed quite a bit recently.  Jonas hadn't been around as much as he usually was, what with the trek down to Cornwall for the holidays and the various work since, but he couldn't remember the last time that he had seen it open.  For not the first time, he made a mental note to give the Muggle owner a call at his house.  As far as he knew, the old man wasn't married and lived alone.  Checking in on him seemed the neighborly thing to do.

Fumbling with his keys at the entrance took a few moments - he'd forgotten his gloves back with his coat, and his fingers felt nearly frozen through - but after some trial and error, he managed to undo the lock and ease the door open.  The cheerful ribbit of his guard frog greeted him as he entered, and Jonas tossed it an off-handed salute as he let the door slam shut behind him.  Whistling a slightly off-key version of Auld Lang Syne, he started up the stairs, taking them as quickly as he could considering his bad knee.

Jonas wasn't expecting anyone to be in the office.  He'd given Lex a couple of days off for the holiday, and even so, he knew there was no way she'd make it in so early after what he was certain had been a hearty New Year's Eve celebration.  After the night before and all of the recent chaotic development with his cases, he'd been looking forward to spending the day catching a nap on the sofa and reintroducing himself to Sherlock Holmes.  When he finally reached the landing and spotted the unexpected figure in the office, it startled him enough that he nearly tripped on the top step.

It had been eleven years since he'd last seen the big man before him.  Archer Radley didn't look as though he had changed much - certainly he was older, but there weren't any sudden telltale signs of madness or anything to suggest that he'd come all this way to do Jonas in, which was slightly reassuring as there would have been little that could have been done to stop him.  The private investigator stared at his visitor for a long moment, suddenly cognizant of the fact that he'd probably left his wand with his coat and his gloves in his ex-wife's house, for all the good that it could have done him.  If it had been anyone else, if Radley  had been malicious, at least the ending would have been quick.

He'd walked straight into this and there had been no a sign of an ambush.  Maybe Tamis was right about taking precautions.

"So, Christmas Future, yeah?" he asked after a beat, flashing the other man a quick smile that failed to reach his eyes.  Who the bloody hell on Level Two had decided that every single goddamned Auror suddenly had the right to drop in on his office any time they pleased?! 

"Since Tam would've been Past," he offered by way of clarification as he glanced carefully over the rest of the room.  No one else that he could see was there, but with magic, that didn't mean much.  Cautiously, Jonas shifted so that his back was to the wall.  "And I reckon that Eleor was definitely going for Christmas Present, what with the suit and all," he continued, with an easy lightness that he didn't feel.  This was his bloody home!  He'd liked 2009!  "Nice of you to drop in and complete the red-robed set like this, Arch.  Glad you didn't trouble yourself by owling ahead."

The files were somewhat illuminating.  In between some of the more mundane things that he thought even a muggle would be interested in, Archer was looking at some of the other things.  There were cryptic reports and things he could only half understand – Trevelyan’s handwriting certainly hadn’t improved over eleven years.  The guy really could benefit from being in the corps again, Archer thought to himself, and having Tamis breathe down his neck about bad penmanship.  He supposed he was probably the only person reading his files so it didn’t matter much, but really – how was anyone supposed to get any good snooping done when one couldn’t read the files? 

He managed to get a little bit out of it though, nothing that was directly incriminating for Jonas – at least not directly.  He was curious, but that was just about it.  Everything seemed fairly… boring, for the most part, actually.  There were some familiar names, to be sure, but nothing that he would consider dangerous to Jonas or anyone near him at this point.  Granted, the dust in this place could probably kill someone with an allergy – he’d have to remind the man to at least attempt a cleaning spell, if he still knew how to even hold a wand properly. 

Judging from the lack of protections on his office, it was clear he probably remembered just about nothing from training, but again, Archer had to remind himself that it was only giving him an easier time with figuring out what he needed.  Of course, as he cruised through a file, seemed to be about a missing person, Archer’s head shot up. 

Archer heard rustling noises coming from below.  He heard the door, he heard everything.  Keeping his ears open, he started to shuffle the files back into place, trying to rearrange them just the way he found them. He figured with his bum knee and slowly paced walk he’d have a few minutes to get everything in order.  Jumping up from the chair, Archer continued to fix things and place them back, a mix of careful laying and haphazard throwing – akin to the man’s style and took a place to the side of the desk, somewhat in front of it – trying not to bump into the rumpled looking couch.

It appeared the office was functioning on a multi-purpose level at this point.

When Trevelyan finally arrived in the office, Archer stood with his arms behind his back, dressed completely in dark colors – per usual, and looked at him as though he had expected his arrival.  This, of course, was a complete fabrication of what Archer had actually anticipated today, combined with the surprising lack of protection against invaders and the sudden arrival, it was chock full of surprises.  It seemed, however, that Jonas was in good spirits.  Probably dipped into good spirits last night, if Archer could still peg him right after 11 years. 

His sense of humor was still intact, as was that ridiculous ginger look he sported and the same sort of style Archer had come to know when they were partners.  Smiling lopsidedly, he recalled hearing of a number of dealings with the man recently, and shook his head.  “This is what your life would have been, Jonas Trevelyan, if you hadn’t up and run off to the muggle world,” he motioned to the dark clothes with a hint of a sardonic smile.

“Fortunately,” he cleared his throat, “you got yourself out.  Though, I suspect a few more years would have vastly improved your cleanliness,” he looked about and then back at Trevelyan, “after all this time, you really think I’m the type to owl ahead?  I’m hurt you don’t know me better, partner.”  Archer laughed and shook his head.  “Happy New Year, by the way.  Good luck and all that other shite,” he smirked, “You’re probably going to need it.” 

"I'll need the other shite?" Jonas asked lightly, flashing the other man a crooked grin as he stepped forward, extending a hand to him.  "Still got enough on me own, thanks.  Might take you up on the luck, though," he added cheerfully, his eyes flickering over the Auror.  "Sounds like you've been doing alright on that count, if that bloody house elf's got any sort of read on the situation."

Radley was here, and clearly sober, which eliminated some of the more sentimental reasons that he might have come - not that Jonas had ever taken the former Hufflepuff for a sentimentalist.  The older man was cool-headed and low key, and even after a ten year hiatus, the private investigator couldn't imagine that his former partner had changed all that much.  He had trained under Radley, known him even before that when both were at Hogwarts, and the Auror was nothing if not consistent.  Any visit that he made likely came with a purpose.

For the most part, even though he had been working for Tamis Raynor, Jonas had been operating independently of Level Two.  He and Eleor had clearly established the boundaries after their first meeting (including a very clear delineation of when, where, and how communication could be initiated), and though he'd been checking in with the Israeli Auror from time to time, as far as he knew, his participation in the Runespoor investigation was still off the record.  Jonas wasn't surprised that Archer Radley had found out about it, and he'd hardly expected Tamis to keep the information about his continued vitality from her current (and his former) partner.  But he hadn't been expecting the older man to just appear inside his office.

As far as he knew, Radley wasn't even involved with the Runespoor investigation.  He'd been mentioned once or twice in reports in the file, but all of the recent heavy lifting had been done by Eleor.  Even if he were here to talk about the case, it was odd that he hadn't brought Santa Claus along with him.

An unsettling feeling crept into Jonas's stomach.  If Radley was here on business - and why else would he appear in his office so early on New Year's Day? - it was likely that something had happened to Eleor.

"And I evidently haven't done so well keeping meself out, have I?" he asked, giving the other man an amused look.  "Hard to stay in the Muggle world when I've apparently circulated an invitation encouraging everyone on Level Two to come and visit without knocking.  Not that it's bad to see you, mate," he amended, glancing across the still-messy office.  "Just would've straightened up before I went out last night if I'd known."

Which was, more or less, true.  He hadn't exactly gone out of his way to run into Radley - well, if Jonas were being honest, he would have to admit that he might have been avoiding his former co-worker - but the other man had been a friend as well as a co-worker at one point.  If he didn't mistrust the reason for his visit so much, Jonas would have been downright relieved.

"So what brought on the cloak and daggers so early in the morning?" he asked, allowing a slight frown.  "Is this a conversation that we can have over a beer, or do I need to sit down?"

If only Archer could actually enjoy seeing his old partner again.  It was not generally a situation he liked to find himself in, awkwardly staring across at someone he used to consider a close friend and good co-worker and having to possibly look at him with suspicion.  Now, he gathered that Jonas had not taken a complete turn and started with the dark wizards in a willing sort of way, but there were a number of ways any group could get a hold on someone and manipulate them.  It was a casualty of group mentality and brute strength without reservations on using it, which Archer was fairly sure this group had.

But, he also did not want to peg Jonas as involved before he knew fully what was going on either.  It did not seem as though he had any idea why Archer might have dropped in unannounced, though it could have been for a few reasons - since it was unannounced on New Year’s Day and all…But, at the same time, Archer knew that if he had reason to be particularly worried, he would be acting like it.  Not particularly pleased with the recent amount of company, Archer could only laugh. 

“You know you like all the attention,” he smirked, “makes up for all the time you went living in my shadow, yeh?”  He couldn’t help but grin, particularly as it was both figurative and literal.  Jonas wasn’t far shorter than Archer, but it was enough to create a bit of a joke about it.  The next joke, however, was even funnier than that to Archer.

Straighten up?  It was veritably laughable for him to assert he was going to clean up on his account and Archer was not particularly hurt that it was a mess.  “I knew you when your cubicle was still overflowing - this does not surprise or perturb me in the least,” he shrugged before wiping the mirthful water from his eyes.  It was a fair and accurate statement, considering their past relationship, though Archer made it a point to grin, “I appreciate the sentiment though.  Might be nice to not worry about cockroaches crawling out of your things.” 

“Seems that’s a marked improvement though, so no worries on that front.”  Of course, there were worries on others, and Archer wasn’t hesitant to mention anything at this point.  Jonas already suspected the business was not personal - slightly obvious - and asked about it in the straightforward manner Archer expected and admired from his ex-partner. 

“Probably sit,” Archer said honestly, looking around for a seat.  He moved behind the desk and grinned cheekily at Trevelyan as he took a sit in his desk’s comfortable seat, “since it’s my business, after all.”  He leaned back in the chair and put his hands behind his head, trying to appear as causal as possible. 

He would give Trevelyan the benefit of the doubt, talking to him like a colleague again, rather than a suspect-  until he was given reason to do so.  “I’ve heard some things Trevelyan,” he stated bluntly, “some whispers of a certain ginger hanging about the Chimera recently?  Now, I don’t usually judge who a man chooses to drink with, but it’s an odd assortment for you, mate - particularly with the anti-muggle sentiments floating about and you - with this,” he motioned around, thinking that was description enough for how he felt about muggles. 

“It’s just a bit… disconcerting.”  Big word for Archer Radley, and he looked at his old partner with a piercing sort of look, trying to figure out what exactly Jonas was in and if he was in too deep and needed assistance, or worse, knew exactly what he was doing. 

As well as not changing much physically, Radley had obviously not lost any of the hot wind from his sails.  Jonas gave him a humoring smile, wondering if there were a way to scare up a cockroach just so he could see the other man's reaction.  If the Auror was disappointed in the state of the office now, he should have dropped in back before Jonas had hired Lexus.  The cleanliness and organization had improved ten times over since the young Canadian had started to work for him.

Radley's response to his question eased the knot in his stomach.  Policies and procedures were everywhere on Level Two - how to question a subject, how to take lunch, how to break unfortunately bad news.  He wasn't conducting himself as if something had happened to Eleor.  Even though he'd only been working with the rookie Auror for a few weeks, Jonas couldn't help but like the Israeli.  He had a dry sense of humor and a no-nonsense way of going about business, and their lunch meetings, conducted occasionally in the presence of Eleor-One, were both enjoyable and productive.  They were getting close to cracking down on Trevor Reid, and all three of them knew it.  Losing Adon now was not a parallel to 1994 that Jonas wanted to have to deal with.

His current visitor - of course - took his usual chair.  Jonas refrained from rolling his eyes, merely accepting the affront by pulling up the seat that was normally reserved for his clients.  Between Radley and Raynor, it was obvious that the current inhabitants on Level Two were far more comfortable on the far side of the desk.  For the good of the wizarding world, he hoped that wasn't a metaphor for how they went about their investigations.

Whatever exchange Jonas had been expecting - something about the Runespoor investigation, maybe something about his nighttime intrusion on Tamis - a question about the Black Chimaera wasn't it.  He blinked, surprise showing on his face as he regarded his former partner with a frown.  He'd known that the pub was under Auror surveillance; Tamis had intentionally let that slip back when she'd hired him on.  But he couldn't imagine what had triggered this sudden interest in the place.  Were they really that concerned about him getting jumped in Knockturn Alley?  He'd been a bloody Auror; he was certainly capable of holding his own.

"Disconcerting?" he echoed, trying to mentally put the pieces together. 

Why the sudden concern about his safety?  To be honest, the Chimaera's regulars had been a lot more friendly than he would have ever expected back during his days as an Auror.  He liked Tawse; he liked Ashford; he liked Wiedman, though he was spending quite a good bit of time spying on her, and - Merlin forbid it - he even liked Forrester.  None of the blokes he'd met there struck him as current possibilities for murderers or purists, whatever their past.  They'd never even inquired about his family history, and as far as he knew, Muggle-born Lexus had never been asked as well.

"You know, to be honest, Arch, I'm drawing a blank," he said at last, frowning as he leaned back in the uncomfortable chair.  "Yeah, I've been spending time in the Black Chimaera, but the blokes there are perfectly alright.  Blood purity's never even come up, besides that goddamned rule they've got hanging on the wall.

"You don't mean the flyers that were going up around the Alleys, do you?" he asked, frowning still.  That had been Dazmond Wiedman's doing, but it still seemed harmless.  People in London complained about immigrants taking their jobs all the time.  It wasn't as if she'd started casting Unforgivables at people.  "If that's as much as you've got for anti-Muggle sentiment today, after what we went through back in the '90s, I'd say you lot are in pretty good shape."

This was perhaps even worse of a reaction that Archer had suspsected.  He had wanted something less positive, something that would indicate perhaps he was being blackmailed or tortured or something.  Here he was indicating that he actually liked these people.  The people that Archer had somwhat pegged for muggle torturers, kidnappers, and murderers.  He didn't really know how to respond.  It was something of the look that a fish probably had right before the moment it drew it's last harried breath on land and then was fried on a skillet. 

And what did he mean the issue had never come up?  It was enough to knock him off his feet faster than a surprise expelliarmus.  And Jonas, like the rest of the wizarding world, had no idea just what was bubbling up under the surface.  Now, he wasn't saying it was going to break out into a full scale conflict or be as intense as the 90s had been, but it certainly wasn't just a few posters in the Alley.  That would have been a blessing. 

Running his hand through his hair, Archer leaned back in his seat, trying to figure out what was the best way to explain this without giving away anything that would land him in a heap of trouble.  After all, if Jonas was now apparently buddy-buddy with the scum of the Earth he wasn't going to let him know he suspected that a muggle hate crime organization with anti-ministry leanings was being pinpointed in that particular destination.  No, that was not going to happen, it would be a viable tip for him to hand off.

He breathed in heavily through his nose and out of his mouth, "I wouldn't dismiss it so easily," he warned with the vagueness approrpiate to the secrecy and seriousness of the issue, but he couldn't have Jonas just thinking he was off in the clear or that everything was coming up roses in Knockturn Alley.  "Maybe you have something to offer them right now, Red, but once that's gone," Archer shook his head, "I don't know." 

It was a fair comment, he didn't know.  He didn't know what would happen or what Trevelyan was doing hanging around in that area, working with those people and calling them alright.  Tamis would have up and died the second he said they were perfectly alright.  The menacing face of Tawse was brought up in his memory and he shook his head, how could that yeti be perfectly alright? 

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, you're not obligated anymore, but are you working down there?"

Jonas regarded his former partner thoughtfully, stretching his bad leg out alongside the desk as he mimicked the older man's posture.  The private investigator couldn't help feeling as if he were missing some crucial piece of the conversation.  Radley wouldn't have come all the way out to visit just to hold his hand and warn him that some of the lot in Knockturn might not like him very much.

Ever since the betrayal of his youth, Jonas had never been the biggest supporter of government.  Labour and the Tories were bad enough, but the worst that Parliament could do paled in comparison next to the injustices of the Ministry of Magic.  For all their claims of sanctity of blood, the wizards who ran the magical world knew next to nothing about formulating a good government.  The Ministry was sanctimonious, overbearing, and over-controlling; it used political manipulation and secrecy to control the masses, all in the name of protecting them from themselves.  Representation was non-existant.  Political change took generations; there could be no wave elections when elections were never held.  Men and women were appointed to lead not based on ideology or public support, but their tenure of service and their previous support of the establishment.
 
Any government was imperfect, but it was if the Ministry had been intentionally designed to fail.  He'd seen how it forced former Azkaban prisoners outside the system by banning their wands and taking their identity.  Its insistence on secrecy made it so easily corruptible that Jonas couldn't believe that any reasoning Muggle-born could trust it; he'd seen before how quickly it could fall.  When he'd left, men like Scrimgeour and Robards and Thickness had been in charge; coming back to find that his old friends had moved seamlessly into their places, likely with iron fists and all, made him feel queasy.
 
A large part of him wanted to refuse.  He didn't work for the Ministry and he had no intention of sharing any irrelevent information with them.  If Radley had stomped into his office like Eleor had into his family's home, Jonas would have politely declined and sent him on his way.  But his former partner had either spoken with the Israeli Auror and come up with a better approach - unlikely, since Eleor could have just asked Jonas for the information in relation to the Runespoor investigation and stood a better chance of getting it - or he knew him too well to begin with.
 
Something had to have triggered this.  Radley wouldn't just appear in his office on New Year's Day to ask random questions about a hypothetical danger.  Actually, if a specific event hadn't triggered the holiday inquiry, then it was probably unlikely that Radley had come here expecting to speak with him at all.  Jonas pressed his lips together, not sure if he wanted to take that line of thought further.  Raynor had been going through his files when she'd come to hire him.  Considering that magic was involved, he had no way to know if anyone from Level Two had looked through them since.
 
He could lie, he could refuse, or he could cooperate - and hope to get something useful in return.  If there really was some sort of danger about, then walking into it flat-footed was dangerously idiotic.
 
"Yeah, I am," he said frankly, raising an eyebrow at Archer.  "I've got a private surveillance gig I've been running on a Knockturn regular, and I've been keeping an ear out for Eleor-Two as well.  And I've got to admit, I'm a bit surprised that you blokes'd have a problem with me mucking about there.  I've been up front with Tamis ever since I realized I was taking on regular work from wizards a few months back, mate.  The deal was that if I heard anything worth telling, I'd pass it on."
 
Which, as far as he was concerned, he had - he'd been under no obligation to share anything about Aileen Reid with Eleor, and he'd let the younger Auror see most of that file.  But if Radley didn't know about that bit of cooperation, then Jonas wasn't about to break the confidence.  Intra-office communication on Level Two was obviously still operating at a stellar level.

Archer did not know what to make of Jonas' responses.  It was shocking, confusing, and worrisome, but at the same time, it was coming from a man who had not exactly had the best experiences with the place Archer was trying to come from.  The Ministry of Magic had not been kind to most, in fact, it had even forsaken Archer on a number of occasions, including his own removal during the second war.  He didn't have the protection that some of the others had - blood purity and all that nonsense - when he walked into the door and things got messy, the puppets of the state had taken it into their own hands, and Archer spent nine months pretty much in hiding.

It had been the most miserable time of his life, but he had been able to come back.  Trevelyan didn't come back.  It had been a bit of a blow, to be perfectly honest, as Archer enjoyed his partnership with the red head, and always thought they were fairly good mates.  But, things happened.  Trevelyan moved in a completely different direction, had an (ex)wife and kids, from what he heard, and was going to have one hell of a time with that if the oldest was Hogwarts age like he had heard. 

So, finally, when Jonas voiced his surprise, Archer shook his head.  "Yeh, I know about the deal," Archer waved off easily, not concerned about that part.  "I'm not interested in the information right now," total lie, complete and total lie, he had just been shuffling through his ex-partner's files like it was going to reveal some master key to whatever he was looking for, but truth be told, there was not enough organization here for Archer to know what he was even looking at to illuminate that much of his investigation. 

"I know there's not much I can tell you," Archer started, knowingly fully well Tamis intended to call a press conference, intended to tell even just a bit of what they knew and it would be out anyway.  Even if it killed him to let someone in the direct vicinity of the Black Chimera - even Knockturn know - was going to kill him, it was going to come out anyway.  He just hoped Trevelyan still had enough loyalty to those that deserved justice by bagging this thing before it could get really bad to not say anything.  "But there's been a number of muggle murders, Trevelyan.  And a lot of them are suspiciously like magic." 

"There's nothing confirmed yet," he continued, "but it's looking pretty bad, Trevelyan.  And it looks like it's moving up from muggles." He looked at him with a hard gaze, "I know whatever is going on down there might look legitimate, but keep your ears and eyes open.  Charisma is a hell of a thing, Trevelyan. Watch it."

The private investigator's forehead creased as he listened to the other man's words, staring past him.  Archer didn't directly state the parallel, not out loud, but he couldn't fail to read between the lines.

The Muggle deaths had always come first, trickling in, never definitively connected to anything, but there nonetheless.  Missing persons, suicides, mysterious passings written off as health conditions by the authorities because no scientific explanation seemed to fit.  Then those on the fringe of the magical community started to vanish - never more than one or two, barely enough to raise eyebrows, because strange things happened to wizards as it was.  By the time they had established enough of a pattern to prove anything, the other side had their foothold and they were fighting yet another losing war against an enemy that had nothing to lose.

In the '90s, the second rise of You-Know-Who had been predicated by a surge in the trafficking of Runespoor parts and other questionable illegal items; Jonas knew all too well that they were dealing with a similar ring in 2008.  People were apparently starting to die, just like they had while the Death Eaters were consolidating power.  Level Two was clearly overworked, stretched thin enough that Tamis Raynor had hired him to assist with the smuggling inquiry because she had no one else to put on it - which suddenly made sense if her other Aurors were being run ragged with another sort of investigation.

"You've been listening to the gits at the Ministry too long if you call it moving up from Muggles, mate," he remarked quietly, shifting his gaze to meet the other man's eyes.  "I know we both agree that murder is murder, whether the poor bloke has a wand or not."

It was enough to suddenly make him feel very tired, no matter how much of a relief the night before had been.  Jonas made a face, pressing his fingers against the bridge of his nose.  This would have clearly been a better day if he just hadn't come home.

"So, did you come here to warn me off or to feel me out?" he asked, glancing back at Radley again.  "Ought to warn you that no matter how easy it was to change Scrooge's mind in Dickens, you're going to need to hunt up a cloak and a bony finger before you're half as convincing as his Ghost of Christmas Future."

Nodding, Archer couldn't deny he agreed with Trevelyan. He knew he felt just as uncomfortable about the deaths in the muggle world as he did about the ones that were starting to pop up in the wizarding one.  These people were not afraid, they didn't have reason to be.  Most of them, he had figured, were probably ex-cons, virtually erased from the fabric of wizarding society, and what did that present to them? The perfect opportunity to be faceless and nameless in whatever they were doing. 

He just didn't want to see casualities extend beyond what they already had and with Trevelyan playing right in the fire, he couldn't help but see something happening - something that would certainly be overlooked by most of the wizarding world - though he supposed those that mattered would be immediately aware. 

Whatever the case, Archer could not let a person that had been a close friend walk into the situation blind.  As much information as they had would be released soon enough, but by then, it might be late.  And it did not appear that he was particularly interested in listening to Archer's warnings. 

"I'd rather not have to conjure up a dementor for this one," Archer said, resuming a more normal, less relaxed pose in the chair.  All the mentions of classic literature signalled to him that Trevelyan wasn't taking this seriously, and not only was it frustrating, but it wasn't something to joke about. 

The quesiton, however, lingered in Archer's mind. He had come here with suspicion, but was he really suspicious?  He was worried, and he thought Jonas might be in over his head, but he couldn't bring himself to believe that the man actually had a hand in furthering whatever was going on.  He had been there for the second war, he had suffered as a result, he wouldn't aid a faction with similar viewpoints without being duped into it. 

"I'm just saying, be careful," it was the easiest thing to say at this point, "and watch yourself.  I can't tell you what the future is, but it doesn't look that great from my end.  I don't want to have to add your name to the victims list, Trevelyan.  It's long enough as it is." 

The victims list, as far as Jonas was concerned, could go crawl into the Restricted section of a library and die somewhere.  He would have liked to point out to the Auror that despite the number of messes he was currently engulfed in, he was doing just fine, thanks, and that was without any magic to boot.  But rubbing the fact in Radley's face wouldn't do any good.  If the other man really had come here to warn him, Jonas couldn't help appreciating the expressed sentiment.  He'd been a friend once; maybe some of that old alliance still lingered.

Between Archer's comments and what he'd observed so far, he could fit vague pieces of the puzzle together.  Some sort of conspiracy, centered on Knockturn Alley.  The Aurors probably thought it was based in the Black Chimaera, if Radley's more specific warnings were any hint.  Level Two was taking it seriously enough that they were short-handed and over-worked.  Purist, anti-Muggle, and now apparently evolving into anti-the-wrong-sort-of-wizard.  Interesting, since so many of the blokes he'd met there were former Azkaban prisoners that didn't have wands - but then, he knew exactly how easy it was to keep up with wizards even when one didn't have active magic.  Charisma was, after all, a hell of a thing.

At this point, staying clear wasn't an option.  He couldn't imagine Lexus suddenly agreeing to stay away from her new friends at the Black Chimaera, and considering her particular situation, it was probably better that he keep an eye on her in case something went wrong.  Besides - he liked most of the individuals that he'd met there.  After the mess of the dagger hunt and the favors he'd paid out since then, Jonas had worked hard enough to get in with Cinaed Tawse and his mates that he wasn't about to throw that away with the rubbish just on his old partner's say-so.  And if there was something going down, the blokes who weren't involved in it might need someone on their side in the end.

"Yeah, reckon I'm still on the victims list from the last war," Jonas agreed, a cheerful edge creeping into his voice.  He couldn't help wondering if anyone had ever gotten around to writing an obituary for him.  It might almost be worth slogging through back issues of the Daily Prophet just so that he could find out.  "You lot don't still update it, do you?  If it's not too much paperwork, you can probably take me off."

Despite his amusement and his own nonchalance, he knew that Radley was likely correct.  Three visits from Level Two in a row had reminded him just how inadequate his own defenses were.  And while he might not mind about the office - if someone really cared enough to trespass and surprise him, he'd rather let them do it so that he'd know  who and why - there was no reason to leave Anna and the kids unprotected.  Maybe one of the Eleors knew something about home defensive spells.  He'd have to remember to ask them, the next time they had lunch.

Jonas sighed, running a hand over his face, and then glanced back at Archer.

"I appreciate the warning, mate," he said, quietly and more seriously.  "But I'll be fine.  I get on alright with most of the regulars at the Chimaera, and if I really get into trouble with someone there, I'll owl you blokes anyhow.  Besides," he added with a slight smile.  "What's the worst that could happen?  I end up dead for real this time and then you don't have to worry about updating the paperwork after all, yeah?"