A Dear Colleague [Plot]

Mordred had been sitting in the laboratory for eight hours straight and had finally started to notice that if he continued, his research would involve living toads and human's thumbs. So he figured it was time to go take a pause or something. He walked out of the office and followed the path he had become so familiar with. When he opened the door to the Department of Mysteries and walked through the long corridor only lit with torches, he finally entered the elevator that he found as one of the world's worst creations. Honestly, why on earth didn't they simply use a spell to make it steady? There were many of those spells. But no.

Mordred sighed and got out of the elevator when he reached the Atrium. He really needed something to drink. Probably to eat as well, but he couldn't eat while he was still at work. He needed his body to focus entirely on his task, not to focus on the cellular respiration. So something to drink would have to do. He looked around and his eyes were diverted as he heard a slightly raised voice. His eyes landed on Richard Blackwood. Well, the man seemed angry for some reason. Probably something about the Prophet. Mordred studied him for a moment, and while the waiter was off getting Blackwood's order, Mordred noticed how Richard seemed to fall into deep thoughts. And they were not pleasant, that Mordred could see.

He shuffled his feet and walked towards Richard and noticed how his eyes turned to Mordred when he came closer. "Hard day at work?" Mordred asked casually before sitting down at the same table, not bothering to ask if he might sit down.

Mordred smirked. "I take that as a challenge. Let me guess; you had a great scoop and it was totally overrun by some celebrity gossip that no one cares about," he said wickedly. He enjoyed annoying people, there was no denying that, but he also knew that Richard were one of the only people who could take it without stalking off with plans of murder.

"Ah, you know. Same old story. Oh, and defying death? Already figured that one out," Mordred said, grinning at his own joke, "No, really, but stopping time... hm, that sounds interesting. I will be getting back to you on that," he added. Truth was, something about what Richard said intrigued him. He was busy with stabilizing Time Turners, he hadn't considered just stopping time. And of course, other things were also on his mind at that moment of time. Not that he could talk about it. And neither did he have a desire to talk about it. He only wanted to figure it out.

Mordred gave a sigh. "It's not mindreading, it is simple observations. You are never so mad that you take it out on other parties, except when it has to do with your job. Even then, it is never audible, as it was now. And that makes me think the scoop was not only personal gain? Maybe something everyone should know?" he said monotonously, even though he was actually enjoying himself. Reading people was his favorite hobby, even though many people were offended by it.

Mordred nodded. "I shall," he said. Then the waiter returned. Mordred gave him a crooked look, and looked positively bored. "A coffee please. Black, two sugars. Maybe an extra shot of caffeine. Days are hard," he said boredly before turning back to Richard, quite clearly wanting the waiter gone, not giving a damn if the waiter found that insulting. Something he obviously did as he shuffled his feet rather angrily and stalked off.

"That guy is going to be really happy when he gets off work," Mordred said, seemingly pretty pleased with himself.

Mordred frowned lightly. "Did you just call me Sherlock? What in Merlin's name is a sherlock?" Mordred asked confused, and, of course, annoyed at himself for not knowing what a sherlock was.

He returned his attention to Richard when the journalist started to ask about what he had uncovered. Chroniculus Punnet? Other than a funny name (though, who was Mordred to judge for that), Mordred didn't really know anything about him. But despite that, Mordred frowned during the entire explination of Richard's. When Richard took a sip from his whiskey, Mordred fell into deep thought. He placed his hands together and put them thoughtfully up to his lips. He was looking at the stirrings in the whiskey and wondered about what was happening. Would one disappearance really mean the rising of a new dark wizard, or could it be something else? But why would the publishers be so intolerable when it came to publishing it. As for Lorcean D'Eath... Well, who really cared?

He was interrupted in his thoughts by the coffee he ordered being put on his table by the waiter. Mordred was about to not do anything, when his daughter's voice hit him. She always told him that it really couldn't hurt him to be friendly. "Thank you," he said calmly, and though not as kindly as other people did, it was something, right? He took a sip from the coffee.

"It is suspicious, I'll give you that. Have you heard of any more disappearances like that? And you said people thought he was acting different... Did he get to tell anything about this discovery of his?" he asked. He felt himself being intrigued by this, though he had no details as of yet. He sighed. "You made the article, right? Can I get a copy? I could try to find out some more, if you want me to. After all, the equipment available to the Unspeakables are beyond your imagination, I am sure. What do you think?" he asked, taking another sip of the coffee.

Mordred looked omiously at Richard. "You're enjoying this," he said annoyed. He'd have to look up on this Sherlock person. But it seemed to be a fictional character. "We have a lot in common? Really? I can't wait to see that," he said dubiously. No way was he believing that someone could be similar to him. Especially a muggle detective that was a fictional character.

Mordred nodded to what Richard said and thought about everything he knew from the founding of Hogwarts. That was a lot, but he couldn't see why anything a man figured out about that would get him killed. It had to be of great importance. He then thought about the potioneer. How on earth could that be connected. "Maybe something from the medieval times had some importance to potions, and a historian would simply love a new discovery," he mused. But it seemed a bit far-fetched. "If this means that the Dark Ones are on the move again, then I wonder what they want. If they killed those two people, because they had figured out something no one was supposed to figure out of... Hm... Seems I need to do some research back in time," Mordred said softly.

He accepted the piece of parchment and studied what was written. First impression was unimportant; Richard wrote the article in a very strategized way, making it easy and interesting to read. Even if it wasn't true, something it really seemed to be, an editor would be somewhat stupid for not taking the article seriously only because it was well-written and would draw attention from the public. Much more so than what D'Eath was up to. No one cared anymore. If people did, they really were more shallow than Mordred gave them credit for. He then snorted.

"Careful?" he asked, amused, not taking his eyes off the article, "There is no careful in this world anymore, Richard. If you want to find out of something, sacrifices has to be made. Speaking of which. You are one of the very few people who knows that I have a daughter. I'd appreciate it if you didn't talk openly about it. Of course, it wouldn't be hard to find out, but I'd rather not leave it out in the open. That has got nothing to do with this article, though, more generally the fact that I work in the Department of Mysteries."

He spoke without worry, but he was worried. Morgana was about the only thing he would ever worry about. He'd prefer keeping her safe.

Mordred frowned when Richard leaned forward. Whatever was about to be said, was not to be discussed in such trivial places as this. But still, when he heard what Richard told him, he couldn't help but wonder. It had to have something to do with the medieval times, and maybe even about the founders themselves. "If it is about a weapon and a professor of medieval studies, it has to have an importance of magic itself. Possibly something within a great magicians grasp. Like Merlin or the Founders, even," Mordred said lowly.

He nodded. "That is possible, but even so, it might be that they didn't abduct them. Maybe they killed them because they knew too much. But in that case, they already know where this weapon is, and we'd be in open war already. No, they must have abducted them to get more information out of them. Let's hope they don't know all that much, and that their minds are strong against evil," he said calmly, "But if so, they'll either wind up mad, or dead. Hm... Most interesting."

Mordred was battling a massive grin. He loved his mysteries. The fact that this was happening... It was like Christmas had come early. "No, we shouldn't get ahead of ourselves, but I'd say it's better to figure this out before they get the weapon, even if it has got nothing to do with it. Maybe the people stumbled upon something in their discoveries that killed them on its own. No one knows what dark power might've existed back in the day," he said.

Mordred nodded appreciatively. He'd never expect Richard to do anything that could hurt his daughter, of course not, but he simply wanted to make sure. No one would expect people to think it's bad to say that they have kids. Honestly.

Mordred nodded at what Richard said, having noticed the ministry workers himself. "I will," he said calmly. Richard finished his drink and left. Mordred sat for two more minutes, finishing off his coffee, thinking about what the past could have in store for the future.

He suspected he'd have to look into every single powerful magician in the medieval times. But he would start with the most powerful ones. Meaning Merlin, Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw and Salazar Slytherin. But he doubted that it would have anything to do with the latter. After all, he knew a lot about his ancestor.

But due to the notes Salazar had passed through the family, he would find links to the other founders, and he was the Head of House while Merlin attended Hogwarts in Slytherin. He could find out of this. He put the required sickles on the table for the coffee and rose, leaving the atrium, walking to his office again.