They appeared with two successive pops at the entrance to Kingsley's house in Bloomsbury. Back-to-back, they surveyed the well-lit square, then went swiftly up the front steps into the hall. They were admitted by a very dignified-looking house-elf, who opened the door as they approached and bowed.
"Master Kingsley, where would you like tea served this evening?"
Kingsley doffed the pillbox hat he wore, and handed it to the elf. "In the library, thank you Ferguson. It's quite late, and you and Violet have both waited up."
"We have, Master. We would not be easy in our beds, sir, if we slept while you were still out."
"You are both very good. I am grateful."
The elf bowed deeply, and departed.
"A bit more complex than a security question," Kingsley said in answer to Minerva's quizzical expression. "My response is always the same. If ever I answer differently they will know that it isn't me, but it should protect them from anyone who might impersonate me thinking that they know too much. They just look like servants following their master's hours." He closed the doors, then extended his hand to her, and she allowed him to remove her tartan cloak and hang it in the hall closet. He removed his own outer robe, then turned to her and whispered, "What do you say to tea and a fire in the library?"
She smiled. "I say, 'Lead on.'"
He offered her his arm, then lead her through the corridors into the library. Her shoes clicked against the wooden floorboards, and she saw the expansive white marble hearth and mantle of the fireplace. Another house-elf was cheerfully laying the fire. She rose and curtsied as they entered.
"Good evening Violet.
"Good evening, Master Kingsley." She curtsied to Minerva. "And to you, miss." She resumed laying the fire, and lit it just as Ferguson entered with the tea tray.
"Tea, as requested Master. I took the liberty of including the strawberries to which I know my master is so partial."
"Thank you, Ferguson. This will do beautifully." The elf bowed, setting the tray on the low coffee table near the cushioned sofa. "You and Violet are both dismissed for the evening. Have a pleasant night."
"Good night, Master Kingsley," the elf bowed. " And to you, miss." Without another word, he Disapparated. When she was satisfied that the fire would burn for several hours, and that the wood rick was well-stocked with logs, Violet turned down the gas lamps and followed.
