The note from Trevelyan - scrawled in casual handwriting and sent without much ceremony - had put Tapendra on semi-alert. Not as much as the man's presence before the 2nd had; but enough for him to mull the situation over for most of the day. Still, he'd gotten the elves to bring the best beer, and his stash of firewhiskey and mixers wasn't out in the open -  but it was accessible. He couldn't have Sasha wondering when Tapendra suddenly had gallons of alcohol in the tower, after all.

Despite the tension of his mother's trial, things were...less explosive than he'd expected. Ignan wouldn't be a problem, he hoped, and in time the man might even help the Aurors on his own. At least they were speaking again. And these last few weeks had helped Tapendra calm himself, somewhat.

The sun was behind the mountains when footsteps on the tower stairs echoed up to the  quiet classroom. Unlike most of Jonas's visits, Tapendra's classroom was actually clean; the upper floor of the tower was dark, lit only by the enchanted windows and the high chandelier. It still managed to stay welcoming, though, despite the cool tones of the light.

"Hallo," He said, from where he sat at his desk. He was surprised at how calm he felt; the familiar twist was there, but not at this point likely to overpower him. Tapendra stood, closing the report he'd been busy writing.

"Did something happen?" he asked, one red eyebrow quirked.

It said something unfortunate that the Runespoor case had now become his way of unwinding.  With Adon spending "family time" with his brother and Anna taking the kids to do the same at her sister's, Jonas's options for the evening had been working even later than usual on a Friday night or crashing early at the house by himself.

In the end, he'd chosen to do neither.  He didn't particularly want to think about Dugan Macduff, their new book club, Liadán Ó Móráin, or Cameron Rosier, but the investigation into the Runespoor smuggling ring felt like a mystery in its purest form.  It wasn't a personal failure like the Adani case, and there was no imminent threat involved like the one posed by a direwolf.  They were on the verge of making progress and they knew it, and all it would take was a few hours of good, old-fashioned deduction work.

Luckily, Trishna had seemed amenable (if a bit perplexed) with his request for a meeting.  The response had come promptly and matter-of-factly, and Jonas had taken the Floo network to Hogwarts instead of going directly home.  Matters with the Astronomy professor had been more or less put on hold during recent events, and even with his mother's sentencing a week before, it felt as if he and Adon had barely had a spare moment to devote to the Runespoor case.

At least tonight he had plenty of time to ruminate, though Trishna did not seem nearly as excited about detecting as he was.  Jonas couldn't help chuckling at the inquiry.  Of course the Ministry only showed up when something happened.

"Naw," he replied easily, flashing the other man a crooked smile.  The stress of the week showed in his movements; his normal limp was more pronounced than usual as he made his way onto the landing and into the classroom.  He looked tired, but his eyes were still alert as he glanced around the classroom, pulling the door shut behind him.

"Just been a busy couple of weeks for us," he offered, limping over to his usual perch on one of the student desks.  "I'd hate to see all this get lost in the mix because there's so much else on at the Ministry.  And, well."  He shot the professor a lopsided grin as he eased himself to sit.  "Be a bloody shame if neither of us had something to do on a Friday night."

He smiled, slightly. Tapendra wasn't fully aware of it, but the appearance of the man was helping to put him at ease. Jonas didn't look like he was about to leap up and blast him, and in that feeling of ease the paranoia that situation might have otherwise triggered stayed in the back of his mind.

He glanced down at the report on his desk, and snorted. "I have plenty to do," he said. "It's just all work." Which wasn't necessarily bad, of course; he enjoyed working out the math problems, reading the essays, and grading papers. But to anyone else it was likely dull in the extreme. And after his last incident, getting smashed-drunk was not a good idea.

Sitting at his desk for a moment, he put his work away, shoving the typewriter sideways into its small recess against the wall on the short side of the L shaped desk.

"The WBA acting up again?" He asked casually, as he quickly cleaned up; his tone could have been asking about Cricket scores. "Death Eaters wanting one last hurrah? New boss demanding you chaps turn in written permission to use the water cooler?" He was going off what he vaguely remembered from glancing at the recent Prophets.

"All of the above?" He added, coming out from behind his desk at last and leaning on the globe, reaching up to poke the snoozing grey cat on top of it and pull Kepler down, cradling the gray Kneazle in his arms.

The red-haired man laughed, flashing Trishna a crooked smile as he stretched out his bad leg.  "Fishing, are you?" he asked, not looking at all put off by the thought.  "Let me guess, you've got the bloody room already bugged for the Prophet?"

Even if he had, there wasn't much that Jonas could say aloud that the Prophet didn't already know.  The current travails of the Auror Office were common news; Macduff's attacks on civilians had gone off as a bloody disaster, and he'd leaked the problems with Rosier to Niobe Thursby himself.  It had been a long, tiring, exhausting week, and there was no light at the end of the tunnel.  Even with O Morain's arrest to look forward to, there was likely to be no relief of bad press for Magical Law Enforcement.

That was one reason he was here, though.  If he'd wanted to think about nothing but doom and gloom prognostications, he would have spent the evening in the office.  The least he could do was take it in stride.

"Mostly the first and the last," Jonas said cheerfully, resting his hands on the surface of the desk behind him.  "If the middle one's been about at all, it's news to me.  I don't reckon that Death Eaters are one of our many problems right now."

"But yeah," he added with a shrug.  "It's been a bit of a long week.  Like you said, though, it's all just work."  A quick, lopsided smile banished any hint of exhaustion that might have shown through his expression as he slanted the professor a bemused look.  "Knew what I was getting into when I took the job up again back in February, didn't I?  I can hardly complain about it now."

"Hah! The only thing I'd set up bugs for is the Skeptical Enquirer, and maybe Popular Mechanics. And neither would care much about what goes on up here," Tapendra said, with a smirk. Kepler yawned widely and then pulled his way up to Tapendra's shoulders; Tapendra winced subtly a the cat's claws as they dug in.

"Paperwork, then," he concluded, as he walked to the far alcove and returned a moment later with a pair of beers. He set one on Jonas's desk before sitting on the arm of the nearby couch, using the bookshelf next to it to pop the cap off. "Judy always went on about it. If she was still around, she'd probably give Rosier what for. And yet, from what Witch Weekly's been on about, your new boss is supposed to be a godsend."

Apparently not. He wondered, briefly, how much Rosier knew about the Runespoor cases. If he was lucky, it wasn't much.

He glanced at Trevelyan again. "Just be glad it's not the late 90s," he said, grimly. "The Ministry might be massively incompetent, but at least it's on your side, and likely to stay that way." He shook his head.

Sipping at his beer, he looked at the ceiling for a moment; pondering his next words carefully. "Anything I should know?" He asked, after several seconds of silence. Hi serious tone made it pretty clear what he meant.

Normally, any offer of beer would have been taken with gratitude.  As it was, Jonas eyed the bottle with a perplexed, resigned expression, before attempting to crack it open on the edge of the desk.  If he ever got his magic back, he'd promised himself that the first thing he was going to do was learn a spell to Vanish bottle caps.

Luckily, this one was much less resistant than the bottle at Archer's had been.  It popped off with a satisfying release of air, leaving him to enjoy the beverage.  The Auror took a long drink, raising his eyebrows as Trishna analyzed the benefits of the current Ministry.  After all this, he wouldn't have taken the astronomer for an optimist.

Jonas cracked a smile, flashing the other man a crooked grin as he lowered the bottle again.  "Thought that back in the '90s, too," he said offhandedly.  "Reckon I learned me lesson the last time.  You trust people, not organizations."

Considering the risk that he had recently taken, the man's next question was more than fair.  Jonas paused, balancing the bottle against his leg as he considered the best answer.  The situation with Rosier, the tension with Macduff and the WBA -- there was certainly a chance that it could spill over, but so far, he and Adon had gone well out of their way from keeping Trishna's name from anyone but Tamis.  Even if things with the Ministry exploded, it hopefully shouldn't impact the professor.

"There's nothing related to the investigation," he said honestly at last.  "We've been careful to keep everything out of the office since we talked last -- but if something happens to Adon or me, word'll get back to Level Two," he added in a matter-of-fact tone.  Both of the Aurors knew the risks involved with the Runespoor case; Tait Aldridge was more than enough proof of what could happen if they misstepped. 

He shrugged.  "Keep an eye on the Prophet.  There's a bit going down next week that'll hopefully distract Prideaux."  With any luck, the Hogwarts Governor would throw his hat into the ring after O Morain's arrest.  Every favor called in was another chance of eventual exposure.  "I'd keep laying low for now, but I don't think there's anything that'd throw attention your way, mate.  Just keep on at watching your back," he concluded seriously.  "There's not a lot of love for the liberal sort right now, and I know word's about that you're in favor of Muggles. I'd hate for you to end up in the crossfire because of it."

"Cause a stir and see who runs for cover?" It wasn't a direct quote of Ignan, but it may as well have been. "This tower's warded to hell and back, as best I can without people asking questions. Can't really having a Caterwauling Charm during the day." At night, however, he had one up. Cyhirae and Georgiana couldn't be warded off as easily, which gnawed at the back of his mind. Ignan  was mostly safe; the Defense Professor's office was a fortress. "Sounds direct enough."

Relaxing against the couch, he swirled his beer, looking at the liquid inside thoughtfully.

"While I'm here, it's easy enough for you to come and see me without it being obvious that's what you're doing," he pointed out, having thought about this for some time. "But I'm not here all year; I'm going back to London in a few weeks." And possibly overseas, but that was a separate problem.

"How do you intend to communicate then? I'm in the muggle world - owls get a little...obvious there. And the post is, frankly, slow and thends to lose things." Like bills. Or checks. They couldn't lose junk mail, of course, but the moment you sent off the gas bill - whoosh!

"You've got a cell phone, right?" He asked. "I mean, even if your website is a bit outdated..." There was a hint of humor to his tone; a poke at a simple fact only a few people would actually care about, but one he'd noticed when he'd looked at the thing. Tapendra was dearly missing his toys, at this point. "Unless you gave it up when you returned to Auror duty...?"