I'm starting with the man in the mirror

[bodingill.livejournal.com]

*With all it's solitude and well-kept secrets, the Department of Mysteries has often found itself in a bind when excavation or a team or a test subject is required. Without resorting to unethical memory wipes, the only option is to involve other employees bound to the same silence. Bode could have asked the three other people still at work in the basements of the Ministry when he set out tonight, would any of them be interested in moving an enchanted and potentially dangerous mirror, perhaps. But though this mirror may not be as important as what the guys in the memory room are working on this year, it has captivated him. Even seemingly small finds like this one might always turn out to be worth more than anticipated, and he would rather be there alone to see his patience pay off. His device has scoured the country to pinpoint this half forgotten bit of history, and tonight Bode decides he can handle reclaiming it without help. He resets the device before he leaves, no longer needing to show the location, and leaves the Ministry having only told one person about where he was going.

Augustus Rookwood is far from his mind as he walks straight out of thin air onto Welsh hillside. To his recollection, he has only mentioned the mirror to his tank of fish at home, and his coworker's periodic inquiries into how his search was coming along never struck him as anything worth noting. When the exact location had finally been found, there was no sense in keeping it from him. Indeed it is only very seldom that Bode finds himself with the opportunity to talk about things that interest him, and who, after all, would Rookwood feasible tell about some old item off the expired ownership list.

There is a muggle town just a kilometre away from him and what he's come to get, but the old castle ruins he ducks inside still have wards and charms on them, lingering magic from centuries ago to make this small spot of countryside something only a wizard can truly see. It's been forgotten, just like the mirror stored somewhere inside it, and walking beneath it's crumbling stone makes the air stretch long and cold ahead of him as he descends into it's dungeons.*