Christoph peered around, taking in everything he could. So this is where Wizards go to relax, he thought, marvelling at the atmosphere. If I didn't know any better, I would swear we were on a film set for one of those movies Mother and Katrin like so much. He found it fascinatingly surreal. There were candle-lit lanterns hung all about the room, and everyone was wearing similar robes to Bill. Some of the people, (Wizards and Witches, he reminded himself) had dubious looking objects scattered on their tables or sticking out of bags, and each of them had a wand close by as well. Every now and then, an owl would fly in or out, frequently with a piece of paper tied to its leg.

Mentally shaking his head, Christoph resisted the urge to chuckle. Totally weird. And totally up her alley. A movement from across the table drew his attention. He looked over to see Bill had just set down his quill and was now rubbing his hands across his face. Ever curious, Christoph hobbled across the table to peek at the parchment Bill had been scribbling on. It appeared to be a letter to the Gringotts Goblins.

Christoph wagered that the discovery pertained to what he saw in the last page of the book and shuddered at the memory. He looked up to see the Wizard grinning down at him ruefully.

"So," he said, quietly as he tilted his nearly empty tankard back and forth gently, "what do you think?"

It's, um... nice and official? Christoph looked down at the parchment and back up at Bill, cocking his head slightly to the left.

"Yeah, I know, it's very formal. Quite boring, really. But that's the way it goes."

I guess... I just hope the Goblins pick up on the importance of that thing with the book. He re-read the letter before blinking at Bill.

He chuckled. "Well, now that I have your approval, I have a favour to ask of you."

Hm. This could either be quite exciting, or really humiliating.

"As you know, we use owls to deliver messages."

Christoph gave a mental sigh. Humiliating it is.

"Since you have to get back to --" Bill cut himself off, glancing around the room before continuing. "Well, you have to get back home anyway, and the Goblins know about you, would you mind dropping this message off on the way? The Bank is hard to miss; it's the large white building that doesn't quite match the rest of the alley."

If Katrin ever finds out about this, I will never live it down, he thought. Not quite willing to blow his cover just yet, however poor a cover it was, Christoph blinked at Bill a few more times even as he held out his leg as he had seen other owls do. I cannot believe I am actually doing this.

Bill grinned, folding his letter and placing a magical seal on the outside. He leaned in to Christoph, who was looking rather disgruntled, and whispered, "You know, considering you're not what I'd call a normal owl, I think it'd be perfectly acceptable for you to just carry it in your talons rather than require it to be tied onto your leg. I can easily put a shield against puncture on the parchment." He set the letter down on the table and muttered another spell before leaning back, grin never faltering.

I suppose I'll have to wait until Katrin does the whole introduction thing to get back at you for this, he thought as he stepped onto it and grasped it in his talons. Although I can't say that I'm the most patient person, so you had better get a move on. Realizing that this had the potential for deeper implications, he gave Bill a sharp glance. But I better not hear of anything improper!

"Hope I see you around sometime, Christoph," Bill said, giving the owl a small wave. "Maybe next time you'll let me in on your secret."

Maybe. Maybe not. He felt particularly mischievous. You're not bad, though, Bill. A bit weird, but I guess that's to be expected. Stretching just a bit, Christoph spread his wings and launched into the air, sweeping out a small window as he had seen other owls do and flying off in the direction of the Bank as swiftly as possible. Though he would have honestly enjoyed sitting around with Bill for a bit longer, he was anxious to finish this errand and get back home, letting his father know what he had found out.

Bill stared after him for a few minutes before shaking his head with another chuckle. What next? he wondered, finishing the dregs of his Butterbeer. After arranging with Tom, barman and owner of the Leaky Cauldron, for a room, he went upstairs and threw his bag on the bed. Sitting at the table, he pulled out everything he needed to begin his report before grabbing a spare scrap of parchment. In doing so, he found the letter from Ron.

Seeing it reminded him that Ron mentioned the family was leaving the Burrow, but that he had not said where they would be going. Scribbling a quick note, he used one of the pub owls to send it to the Ministry to let his father know he was back in town and, hopefully, find out where his family was.

Katrin somehow managed to unlock the door and get inside without dropping anything. The Aunts had invited her over for breakfast, which was not so unusual a thing in and of itself. However, upon arriving at Alistair's, she found herself greeted with a rather large stack of brochures. They were all advertising various aspects and deals for travelling to Britain, England in particular. She was sent on her way a few hours later with the stack under one arm and a box with enough food to feed four people for lunch under the other.

Kicking the door shut behind her and her shoes off into the corner, she staggered over to her kitchen counter and deposited the load with a heavy sigh. Just as she thought she was home free, the stack of brochures and pamphlets tipped and they all spilled across the counter. In her surprise, she automatically lunged forward to scoop them up before they scattered across her kitchen floor. Though she saved the information from the Aunts, she ended up knocking the tome off the counter instead.

"Typical," she muttered, watching it skid to a halt by the fridge. "That's what I get for leaving it out, I guess. Good thing I keep my floors clean." With another sigh, she rearranged the leaflets into a few small, less precariously balanced, piles. She then wandered around the counter, taking a glass out of a cupboard on the way to the fridge. She took a moment to pour herself a glass of juice before leaning down and grabbing the tome off the floor.

She only managed to gain hold of the cover, so it flipped open to the very back page as she lifted it. This page was covered in a strange drawing she spent a many hours staring at, but which still made little sense. Leaning back against the fridge, she leaned the open book against her stomach, turning it around with one hand so as to orient it properly as she took a rather large drink of juice.

Abruptly, she began choking on her half-swallowed juice. In the turning, she caught a glimpse of the drawing at an angle and a picture popped out of the mishmash of lines. She set down the glass and took the tome in both hands as she pushed herself off the fridge and walked back to the counter.

This can't be what I think it is, she thought. Surely not even the Goblins who had been sent Aboveground would be as cruel as this? I suppose it would certainly answer one question, but... The thought gave her little comfort as she gave the tome a brief probe of magic, searching for the truth and hoping to find a lie. When what she found reinforced what she had seen in the picture, she threw the tome down on the counter as though it had caught on fire. She backed away from it, slowly, horrified.

She stood there, staring at it, for what seemed like hours though, in reality, only a few minutes had passed. Finally noticing her shallow, panicked breathing, she closed her eyes, trying to find calm. It was then that a wave of nausea hit her.

Katrin rushed to the bathroom. She stood at the sink, turning on the tap and splashing her face with cold water. She stood slightly, regarding her reflection in the mirror. No, she thought, hoping that the denial might make it true. But as she looked down at her hands, hands that had held the tome countless times over the past days, she began shaking. Out of random desperation, she began scrubbing them, as though somehow mere soap and water would wash away the sensation that they were covered by a taint of filth. It did not take long before she was no longer able to remain in control of her body as another, stronger, wave of nausea passed over.

Half an hour later, she had finally calmed down enough to think. She sat on the bathroom floor, leaning against the cool marble of the tub. "I have to tell Dad," she said aloud. "The easiest way would be to just go back Underground, but he was seemed so adamant about me staying here." She shook her head, running her still shaking hands through her hair. Even if she had tried to make the journey, she was so shaken at the moment she was not sure she would have been able to exercise the proper control needed. "Shit. I'll just do what I am technically not supposed to and just conjure up a bloody crystal on my own. He must know about this."

Slowly, she managed to stand up and made her way back to the kitchen.

Bill sat in the Board Room at Gringotts. Shortly after he had sent his letter to his father, a message arrived from his employers requesting an audience for that evening in regards to the information he mentioned in his note. So he quickly washed up and changed out of his travelling clothes before heading back to the Bank. Upon arrival, he had been shown into an empty room, though Frank and Crinklow had joined him soon after. They were now awaiting Queezink, who was apparently taking care of resolving the 'break in' from earlier.

Finally, Queezink came in. He made his apologies for making the others wait before seating himself. Frank turned to Bill.

"Well, Mr. Weasley," he began, "I suppose congratulations are in order for a job well done. Though, considering the circumstances, I am not entirely certain that a job so well done is what we were hoping for."

The irony dripped from the Goblin's voice, and Bill could only nod and smile wryly in response.

"Before we begin," continued Queezink, "I think we should tell you that under regular circumstances this meeting would have most certainly waited until after you had submitted your report, per usual procedure. The aftermath of your 'successful' break-in has the security department in uproar for we did not inform them of the possibility that you would arrive in the vaults."

"This is not due to any lack of faith in your abilities, you understand Mr. Weasley," added Frank. "If they had known of its possibility, their guard may have been relaxed. Although, as I mentioned before, there was always the possibility that you would not have been able to duplicate Quirrell's journey."

"Be that as it may, Frank," Queezink interrupted once more, "they are not entirely pleased. Some of them have expressed a desire to get their hands on the 'criminal' for questioning of their own. It would have been better for you," this he directed at Bill, "had you remained away for a few days."

Bill nodded again. "Yes, sir, I understand. However, I feel this small piece of information to be of great importance."

"Yes," Crinklow agreed. "A point reinforced by another who knows of what went on. It was his insistence that we address this issue immediately that convinced us."

Another who knows? The only one I know of who knows is Christoph... The idea that someone else had supported Bill's request caught him off guard. Do owls actually speak to Goblins, or had he passed on the information he saw that quickly?

"So," continued Frank, "let us get what must be said out of the way quickly so you can be removed from the building as quietly as possible, yes?"

The other two Goblins nodded their assent so, without any ado, Bill ploughed on. "As my report will show, it is not entirely certain that the journey I took, and the exact method with which I escaped, is that which Quirrell used. However, I know how he got into vault seven hundred and thirteen, one of the most highly secured vaults in the entire Bank, one that should have trapped him inside at the very attempt, and I know how he got out again completely unscathed."

Christoph flew over the Labyrinth to the Castle beyond the Goblin City. After returning Underground, he found he was not entirely certain how to broach the topic with his father. So, to buy himself a bit of time, he chose to fly most of the way rather than arrive on the doorstep. With magic adding speed to his wings, it was not much time, but it was enough to allow him to compose himself.

He arrived in his mother's gardens and transformed there. She was kneeling in the earth, pruning some low branches. Without looking up, she asked, "Back already? I should have thought you would be another day or two, perhaps spending some time Aboveground to learn more about this Magical Realm."

Technically, though her bond with his father granted her sensitivity to the magic of the Underground, she should not have been able to tell who it was that appeared behind her. Yet she had always been able to discern the identity of those who would come upon her unawares, especially her children. Both she and Jareth explained it away as being a 'knack of motherhood', though he and Katrin had always speculated there was more to it than that. He figured he would get to the bottom of it one of these days, but today was not going to be that day.

"Is Dad around?"

"I believe he is either in his study or the Throne Room, as he can usually be found in one of those places at this hour. Are you avoiding him again?"

"No. I need to talk to him though."

"Ah." She looked up at him when he made no motion to go. "Christoph?"

"What?" Her voice startled him back to the present. "Oh, right." He paused. "Actually, you should probably come along with me. I can't imagine he'll keep this from you, and I'd rather not have to tell it more than once."

Sarah's brow furrowed in concern. She regarded her eldest son momentarily before nodding. "As you wish." She peeled off her gardening gloves and extended a hand. Christoph helped his mother to rise, though little did she need it, then waited as she brushed soil and moss off her skirt. "Shall we poof there, or walk?"

Though he had grown up with her odd way of speaking about Fae magic, something he and his siblings had picked up in varying amounts, it still amused him to no end when she managed to make simple magical acts sound both extraordinary and ridiculous. He could not prevent his grin. "Let's just walk."

They took the back passages, arriving in Jareth's Study in a few minutes. A servant was sent to let him know they were waiting to speak with him and Christoph spent the time describing what he had seen of the Magical Realm.