„We will meet an Auror named Robinson below," Hermione whispered as they descended through the darkness, the only noise accompanying them the sound of stone scraping against stone. „I understand he is your colleague, but I am not so delusional as to think my presence here will have gone entirely unnoticed."

„What do you mean?" Jeremy whispered back. As the coffin delivered them to their destination and light shone on them once again, he caught her putting her hand down and away from her face, as if she had just put on a mask. Which she did, in fact. She had just done what Jeremy felt he should've done when he stopped by Mulligan's warehouse yesterday.

Gone was the gorgeous, cascading brown hair. Gone was the Minister for Magic. In her place there stood a woman quite plain, in fact Jeremy would go so far as to call her ugly. Short and chubby she was, with a square jaw and a forehead that could function as a billboard. Her hair had the color, cleanliness and quality of straw. When Jeremy imagined a medieval peasant woman, this was what he imagined.

„My name is Audrey Mes. I'm your assistant. Understood?"

„Understood, Audrey."

„I might end up speaking to you in Morse Code so he won't understand us. You can understand Morse Code, can you?"

„I... I think so, yes."

„Good enough. Just pay attention when I blink and we should be fine."

Below was cold and barren, and the ceiling was so low that Jeremy had to keep his head down at all times. A strip of light illuminated the small vault from above. The place was divided into three segments, an elongated corridor and two square rooms, one of them separated from the rest of the vault by metal bars. This cell contained a desk, a mass of safes one on top of the other lining the walls, one Auror overseer in a brown coat, and little else.

„I take it you are Robinson?" Jeremy asked as he approached, his badge out. „Jeremy Taylor, Auror Department."

The overseer turned. Some thirty years old he was, handsome but in a very plain way, not exceptionally beautiful but certainly not ugly either. He stood up from the desk. „Hm? Oh! Yes, yes, the Minister for Magic mentioned one Jeremy Taylor and his assistant. A pity she couldn't be with us," he said as he walked across the cell and reached out for a handshake.

Jeremy's ears caught on that final remark as he accepted the man's hand and they shook hands through the bars of the gate. „Who?"

„The Minister for Magic!"

Why did he expect Hermione here? Now Jeremy felt her paranoia was more than justified, when random guards were saying things like that completely unprompted. But he would not take the man to task over it, at least not until he was given a more concrete proof that he was somehow working for Malachi Greymist. „Ah," Jeremy simply said. „Here's my assistant, Audrey Mes," he gestured at Hermi– Audrey.

Auror Robinson looked at her. Audrey Mes sure was a mess. He unlocked the door for them and they stepped through. „If the Minister for Magic has informed you of our arrival, then she must've also told you what we're looking for?"

„Yes, master Irion's documents. It's this safe over here," the Auror crossed the room again and went to the corner, to the second safe from the top. „I must warn you that I have no access to these documents. Only master Irion and the Minister for Magic can open this safe."

„Well, we have been sent by the Minister, so I believe we will have access as well," Audrey Mes stepped forward. „How's the security here, officer?"

„Oh, er..." Robinson seemed somewhat put off by her straightforwardness. „The best there is, miss. Why, this vault was built over a hundred years ago, miss. Like a fortress, it is!"

„The walls do seem thick enough," Jeremy remarked, trying to play along with the charade. „Right, let's take a look at those papers."

Robinson retrieved a small compact step ladder and placed it before Audrey and, as the safe opened before her wand with a click, she climbed up to retrieve the papers. Then she paused. And then she turned to Jeremy with a grim expression. She did not need to blink in Morse Code for him to understand. The papers were not there.

Jeremy inhaled sharply. „Robinson, when did you last see master Irion? Or his papers?"

Robinson was steadily turning pale. „I, er... I only saw him yesterday in passing, he entered right when my shift had ended."

„Do you keep some kind of log around here?"

„Yes, actually," he went and retrieved for them a great heavy ledger, bound in black leather with brass corners. And there they read that master Irion entered at one o'clock in the afternoon and did not leave until five in the morning, when Robinson came to relieve his Auror comrade. There was a window, however small, for a slip–up to happen while the Aurors were not paying attention, one getting ready for work and the other getting ready to go home. And just such a slip–up happened this morning.

They did say master Irion was old and senile. This time it seemed he had outdone himself. He took classified documents home with him.