7

Chapter 7: Interlude - Fyreside Stories 

"Someone has accessed the deep catacombs, sir."

There was a long pause, pregnant with meaning, before the man behind the scarred old desk spoke. "Are you certain?"

"As certain as we can be, yes. The detection systems showed unusual activity at the deepest levels, and movement from all the way at the bottom upwards. Quite a remarkable amount of it, in fact. Then perhaps two hours later everything quieted down, apparently going back to normal. But the heat sensors and microphones suggest there have been some significant environmental shifts in a number of places, which is worrying."

"Christ. What did those idiots do?" He leaned back in his old wooden chair, one that had been in the office for as long as this incarnation of the Directorate had existed in this building, which was nearly a hundred and fifty years to date, and fixed his eyes on his colleague's. The other man's were dark with worry.

"We're… not sure it was them. Not this time. After what happened back in 1883 they learned their lesson about poking into things best left alone. Or so we thought. But considering how many records were destroyed during the last internecine fighting never mind the war, it's entirely possible that they don't even know about what's down there. Or even that it exists at all."

"Oh, bloody wonderful. I can't see any way that could possibly bite us in the arse at some point," he said in disgust after a few moments. "I can just imagine one of them deciding it would be a brilliant idea to start opening up sealed passageways to see what's on the other side without a care in the world. Again."

"That's an unfortunate possibility, yes, sir. Although as far as we can tell that isn't what happened this time. None of the alarms were set off, so it's unlikely that the old tunnels have been accessed. Or at least… not the ones a human can get through."

Feeling relief, he nodded understanding. "That's something, at least. We do not want something that size ending up on the Circle line."

"It's not necessarily that easy, though. Some of the smaller denizens are probably more dangerous than the bigger ones are. You remember some of Scamander's reports?"

"Oh, lord. I take your point." He shuddered slightly at the memory. "Damn it all. On top of their terrorist problem, we have to worry about this." Shuffling the folders on his desk, he pulled one out and opened it. "Those blasted magicals are trouble at the best of times."

"Indeed, sir. Unfortunately we're rather stuck with them. And there are benefits…"

"Few and far between, I'm afraid. But as long as they're content to largely contain themselves, I suppose that's the best we can hope for. However, if they're somehow causing the Deep to become active again, well…" He shook his head, while flipping through the folder.

"It could well solve itself," the other man said with dark humor.

"I very much doubt it would remain that small-scale knowing what's involved, I'm afraid," he sighed. "And they are still British subjects no matter what they may think, so we have a certain responsibility to prevent them killing themselves off entirely. We're not Russians, after all. And we do have the rest of the country to consider regardless."

"A valid point, yes, sir."

"Ah. Here it is." He found the information he was after, then picked up his phone. Carefully dialing a number he'd only called six times in the last four years, he waited as the line rang.

"What?" came the gruff answer after some fifteen or so rings. "We're busy. Damned wizards are coming here to be annoying."

"I won't keep you. I just wanted to know if to your knowledge anything unusual is happening? You may have some insight that our own analysts can't…"

"Yes, yes, I understand what you mean. Wait. I'll call you back as soon as we get rid of them."

The line went dead and was replaced with a dial tone. He looked at his colleague who raised an eyebrow. Shaking his head as he replaced the receiver, he commented, "He's in a worse mood than usual. I suspect there's a connection, he said they were approaching."

"interesting. I wonder what they want?"

With a shrug, he shook his head and waited patiently. This particular source was very useful on occasion and had produced some highly valuable intelligence in the past, but he was at best hard work. Which was understandable bearing in mind the background to the whole situation involving him and the others.

Eventually his phone rang, the caller ID showing the number he was expecting. "They're gone. Finally. Got what they were after and hopefully that's the last we see of them for some time. And if she comes back…" His voice faded into a somewhat malevolent silence for a moment, then returned even as the man at the desk wondered who 'she' was. "I checked. Something has changed. The signs are… hard to interpret, but something has significantly changed. Within the last few hours. What it means I can't tell you." A moment later, he added, "Hold on, I have to talk to someone else briefly." There was a muffled sound of a hand going over the far phone, then rustling sounds for a minute or so.

"Are you there still?" said the voice when the sounds ceased.

"Yes."

"We suspect something was called."

"What?"

"No idea. But whatever it is, it is… beyond anything they know. Beyond anything you know. Or we do. The signs point to a shift we can't yet discern, but it will cause many things to alter unexpectedly."

"...that does not fill me with cheer."

"Nor should it. Change of this magnitude is always dangerous one way or another. Often accidentally." A deep breath was followed by an exhalation then the other added, "The hopeful aspect is that there appears to be no malice involved. Not as with the coward. Whatever this is, it is… inexplicable, but it is not evil. That does not mean it is safe. Do not provoke it."

"We don't even know what it is."

"No." His contact laughed for a moment. "Nor do we. We shall be curious to find out."

"Is it connected to the Deep?" he asked carefully after thinking for a moment. There was the hiss of indrawn breath.

"Why do you ask that?" came the reply, suspicious and wary.

"We have evidence that earlier tonight something changed far below. Movement was detected. Patterns changed."

"They opened the old ways?" The tone of horrified disbelief was clear.

"No. Not that we can determine. The seals are apparently intact."

A sigh of relief followed his comment. "Thank the stars."

"Quite. But we did detect motion both up and back. So something roused something down there. What, we have no idea, and we don't know why or how either."

"Let us all hope that whatever it was goes back to its rest, then."

"That would be ideal."

"I will pass on the word. If you discover more, let me know. If we discover more, I will let you know."

"Thank you, and we will. On another note, is there anything else you require at the moment?"

"I will text you a list."

"I'll get it dropped to you as soon as you do."

"Thank you. Now, I have to discuss this with the others. Until next time."

The line went to dial tone before he could respond, and he put the phone back in the cradle with a rueful smile. "A man of few words and much irritation with life," he commented to his colleague, who chuckled.

"Can you blame him?"

"No, not really. Well, anyway, his information is… concerning." Reaching out he pressed the button to eject the tape that had automatically recorded the whole conversation and handed it to the other man, before pulling a fresh one out of a drawer and putting it into the machine, then snapping the thing closed again. "Incidentally, thank Communications for the quality of the call. The new cell stations are far better than the previous system. You'd hardly know he was in the middle of a forest hundreds of miles away."

"I'll add this to the analyst's data and see what they make of it," his companion replied with a nod, slipping the tape into his pocket. As he turned to leave, there was a knock on the door, followed by it opening. The new arrival looked worried.

"We have a major problem," he said without preamble as he came in and closed the door behind him.

"That much we gathered," the man at the desk said dryly. "Perhaps you could add more detail?"

"They called up something… well, it's potentially very, very bad." Dropping into a chair, the new man draped his outwear over his knee and leaned his head back against the wall with an expression of haunted dismay on his face. The other two glanced at each other, then back to him.

"Another demon?" the seated man asked quickly, with a sense of foreboding. "Although that last one was far more amusing than lethal based on your report."

"It was a massive embarrassment and clearly enjoyed winding everyone up," his visitor snapped, looking at him. He smiled a little a second later even so. "I have to admit the expression on Fudge's face is something I'll treasure for years though. That man…" He shook his head. "You have no idea what it's like having to deal with him. And the people who pull his strings."

Taking a breath, he went on, "That, at least, won't be a problem any more. I'm not sure that what replaced it is better though."

Leaning forward under the light of his lamp, the man at the desk steepled his fingers and inspected his visitor. "Well, then, let's have your report. What did happen earlier tonight?"

Picking his red robes up and folding them, the new man put them to one side, scratched under his ponytail as he thought, then began speaking at length, while the other two listened with incredulity and dawning fear.