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Maggie's day manning the Daily Prophet booth at the career fair had not been so horrible. She'd talked to a few interested students, avoided hexing Skeeter, and unlike the Aurors, had been able to enjoy lunch uninterrupted. All in all, things had gone surprisingly well.

At around 5:00, as Maggie was taking down Daily Prophet signs and banners, she couldn't help but notice the conversation by one of the remaining panels. Trevelyan and Reid. As Maggie kept glancing over, Reid looked more and more like she had a stick up her arse, while Trevelyan seemed frustrated that he couldn't drag her off to an interrogation room or slam his fist on the panel's table. That probably wouldn't be the best impression to make on students.

Maggie perked up. She began meandering closer to the pair, pretending to rifle through the last of the brochures in her hands. Trevelyan hadn't yet contacted her about that exclusive on the runespoor investigation, and she was itching for some new angle to chip away at. This conversation might also clue her in on where he was at with the Egyptian curse. Merlin knew Reid wasn't going to talk to her.

Drawing nearer, she caught Trevelyan hissing about 'six months' and 'not doing a proper job'. Then a tall man swept in, interrupting the pair before Reid could respond. Maggie tossed glares at Trishna. What the hell was he doing! She wanted to hear the rest!

Trevelyan stalked off, and Maggie followed him out of the Great Hall, through the entrance hall, and out the front doors.

She waited a few moments, then let the heavy doors shut behind her. "Nice day to be outside," she commented blithely, moving next to him. He looked about ready to keel over from heat stroke. 

"So, does Reid always look like someone's pissed in her tea?" Maggie put her hands in her pockets and gave him a conspiratorial glance, somehow guessing this would further piss him off and yet unable to resist trying, anyway!

He'd been hoping that the cold air would shock him out of the temper, but April in Scotland wasn't nearly extreme enough.  Jonas had stalked a short way from the doors, teeth still gritted, fists still clenched as he closed his eyes and tried to count to fifty.

The girl interrupted him at thirty six.  The Auror started, whipping his head around sharply as he searched for the source of the comment.  Of course.  It was only through sheer force of will that Jonas managed to swallow his groan, but he couldn't suppress the look of utter irritation that swept over him as he caught sight of Girl Reporter Maggie Groust.

Of all the things that he wanted to do right now, of all the problems that he probably ought to deal with, Groust was not even close to making the long list.  Pratt was a wreck; the Ministry was under attack; he didn't have magic; he'd possibly blown a Runespoor lead; and most disappointingly of all, Aileen Reid was still amongst the living.  Jonas closed his eyes again, swallowing hard, and tried to will himself to focus.  Groust was young and inexperienced, but she was playing a dangerous game.  She still posed a threat, whether or not she realized it.  He couldn't afford to blow up and send her scurrying off too.

"Depends," he said at last.  His voice sounded harder, rougher than he'd meant it to.  He cleared his throat and tried again. "Reckon it helps if someone's actually managed to do it.  Don't you have some pesky rules and laws you ought to be working around?" he added, eyeing her warily.  "I'm not so sure you need the practice at worming your way into conversations."

Trevelyan looked like he wanted to silence her with the force of his glare, but Maggie had expected that. She remained where she was, raising her eyebrows in amusement when he brought up the little edits she'd made to the Daily Prophet banner. Awww. Cranky Auror had been paying attention!

And actually, she'd been paying attention to the Auror booth too. She wasn't sure if he just didn't like her and Reid (probably), but Auror Trevelyan had been all smiles with the students, and hadn't seemed to mind when some of the bolder seventh-years had joined him at lunch. Maggie would have sent them packing. Even the nicer students, like Theta Pepper. Couldn't the adults eat their food in peace?

"Yeah, I've got it down to an art form," Maggie shrugged. "We all have our talents." His was getting red in the face. 

"Ruined tea or not, her process is slow," she glanced at him. He'd already mentioned that. "Maybe she's not the only key to solving this? Maybe other people can help you out?"

Because unsolicited advice always went over well, Maggie paused, looking awkward. Reid had the dagger, but even then, perhaps they could work around it. "My dad works in the Department of Mysteries. He's the extra eccentric one doing spell experimentation. He lives and breathes that stuff, and manages to keep his mouth shut. So, there you go. Then there's me. Rules-avoiding journalist. Great at research, snooping, being pesky."

Maggie was trying a new approach. Trevelyan seemed pretty decent when he wasn't threatening to arrest her; he'd told her more than Reid had, he worked with Adon, he'd agreed to help Lexus, and he might be able to do something about nutty Margo's problem with MacDuff.

Plus, the faster they got this magic thing resolved, the faster she'd have her story.

Jonas let out a slow breath, trying to relax even as he automatically tensed at her words.  He knew now, logically, that the events of the last war hadn't been a reflection of everyone at the Ministry.  It had been a prevarication, an invention of those who had wanted to push a certain platform and promote You-Know-Who, and most of the individuals involved were dead or in Azkaban now. 

There were still some memories that were impossible to shake.  The pamphlets that had just started getting churned out by the thousands when he'd left.  The accusations against Muggleborns.  They were unclean.  They stole magic.  The arguments touting all sorts of studies done by the Department of Mysteries.  That, more than anything, made him freeze up at her words.  Even if the studies had been fake, even if the conclusions had been utterly invalid, the thought that someone down in the deepest reaches of Level Nine had considered the question at all was enough to make him shiver.  He wasn't about to hand them more ammunition.

"I don't want to deal with the Unspeakables," he said quietly, shaking his head.  For the briefest instant, he considered trying to explain, but he let it go with a sigh.  Groust was too young.

But she was offering her help.  If Charisma Aldridge, Aileen Reid, and Adon Eleor had been so far unable to penetrate the mystery of the Egyptian Curse, Jonas somewhat doubted that a twenty-something bullheaded reporter would be able to crack it.  At the very least, though, if he took her up on the offer, Groust would feel committed.  She'd be part of the conspiracy.  Maybe that would minimize the chances that she'd slip.

"Look, I know I might be restating the obvious a bit, but getting involved in this mess isn't the safest situation, Miss Groust," he informed her cautiously.  "And I've got no bloody idea where to even start.  I've been digging through books for months, trying to find some sort of hint, but there's been nothing.  I appreciate the offer, but unless you've got some other idea, I don't know how doing research or snooping about will help."

She didn't know what his problem was with Unspeakables, or if he had a problem at all, but he hadn't told her to go away yet. Just that it wasn't safe for her get involved. Maggie resisted the urge to roll her eyes, and frowned instead. She was already involved. It drove her nuts to sit around when she knew how long this had been going on and how many people it had affected. Mags didn't expect to crack open one book and get to the root of it, but whatever Trevelyan and Reid were doing didn't seem to be working well enough.

"So she hasn't told you anything useful, or collaborated with you at all?" Maggie assumed, deciding to press on despite his pessimism.

"It's basically been 'fake pleasantries, hiss at each other, fight, storm off, then repeat'?"

That sounded familiar to Maggie. But unfortunately, it didn't sound very productive.

"All I'm saying is," she shrugged, "if you haven't already, you could suggest that she work with you, or work with a few other people who know what they're doing. 'Cause if she's lost the thing once, I can't see her letting you borrow it. And that's if she hasn't lost it again," Maggie added, only half-joking.

Maggie had never talked to the Ancient Runes professor, since the woman had ignored her with more determination than even Trevelyan had. It was likely that she was offering advice that would never work. But that had never stopped her before!

The red-haired man rubbed his forehead, letting out a long sigh.  Groust and her gift for words had summarized the heart of his interactions with Aileen Reid.  Every time they were forced into a conversation, he tried to irritate her and she intentionally pushed his buttons.  Short of locking You-Know-Who in a room with Godric Gryffindor, it was about as far from productive problem solving as one could get.

Groust's final comment was enough to make him visibly cringe.  Reid would have to be an idiot to leave the thing unguarded, but then, she had to have been an idiot to let her kid sister bring another artifact along to the museum.  Judging by past experience, she hadn't done much to instill confidence in her ability to safeguard her treasures.

"Merlin will have to bloody well help me if she has," he muttered, stomach twisting slightly as he remembered Charisma Aldridge's words.  If the Cursebreaker was correct, the magic that he'd lost to the dagger was still accessible within it somehow.  If someone else got their hands on it, there might literally be nothing that he could do about it.

"I'm not sure how kindly she'll take to me suggesting that she should work with someone else," he admitted, giving the girl reporter a wary look.  "Not really the sort to admit she needs help, is she?  And short of threatening to go public, there's not much I can threaten her with."  Even that was a risk, as Reid herself had pointed out.  Aside from it clearly putting a target on his back, he'd be risking her brother's conviction if too many questions were raised.  No one trusted an Auror with a vendetta.

"Well, yeah, she might not take kindly to it, but it's got to work better than the threatening you keep mentioning," Maggie couldn't resist poking fun at him a little. "Isn't that what you told me not to do?"

She raised her eyebrows at him and paused for a moment, smirking. Never mind that he was the Auror and she was the Girl Reporter. The poor man already looked like he was getting a headache, but she'd seen him act perfectly nice to the students today, so there had to be something there beyond grouchiness and wariness.

He had a point though. If Reid was prideful to the point of stupidity, then threatening might be his only option. Maggie didn't understand why the professor was being so stubborn. Maybe she needed another nudge.

"You know," Maggie shrugged, "I could try pestering her one last time." She glanced back at the castle, as if considering finding her right now. "Then you could contact her again and tell her there's this awesome but persistent reporter type who keeps popping up and asking worrisome questions. Bam! Common enemy. You two can bond over your mistrust of The Daily Prophet. And there you go!

"I don't even have to talk to her," she added more seriously, before he could pipe up about how it wasn't wise for her to get too involved. "All you really have to do is mention the girl with the owls, and she'll know who you're talking about. It might get her to actually do something."

Jonas raised his eyebrows, studying the young woman for a moment as he mulled over her words.  Once he started thinking about it, it wasn't entirely a bad idea.  Groust had no obvious connection to him; Reid would never think to link them together.  The threat of the Daily Prophet publishing something on the curse might actually be enough to pressure the private-minded professor into finally acting.  Even if it didn't spur her into actually uncovering a solution, she might be more willing to give up the dagger to Charisma Aldridge if it meant being able to wash her hands of the mess.

Groust was making an offer in good faith.  Jonas ran a hand over his face, and then flashed her a tight, genuine smile.

"That's a good thought," he admitted, a bit sheepishly.  "Reckon it's probably better to give it a bit, since I don't think she'll be taking me up on any sort of compromise right now, but if you're willing, I think I'd like to take you up on it."

He fell silent for a beat, slipping his hands into his pockets, and then slanted Groust a sidelong look.  "Hyskos's hearing is slated for the first part of May," he said, entirely nonchalantly.  "The Italians have been howling for her.  Starting to look like she might be deported for a trial there."

"You're shitting me," Maggie looked like he'd just told her goblins were giving away gold. She studied his face for a moment longer. "I'd better pack a bag, then."

She grinned, very pleased with herself and the new tidbit of information he'd dropped.  Not only had he taken her up on her advice, but he seemed much less cranky than he had a few minutes ago.  She ought to try this 'being nice' thing more often.

"Alright, Trevelyan, good deal," she nodded, in a fantastic mood. "I'll let you know when I've thrown questions at Reid. And you keep me updated on any travel opportunities," she raised her eyebrows, tossed him another smile, and turned to head back to the castle.