After months of preparation, the operation was finally underway. The Bulgarian Ministry of Records stood empty before him, completely unprotected. With some galleons to pay for expenses, their local contact was currently entertaining key facility staff on an overnight hunting trip in Eastern Germany. More galleons had bought a detailed ward scheme for the building.
Now, all that remained was the actual entry. Striding up to the weak point in the alarm system along the southeastern wall of the building, Harry carefully and slowly withdrew a runestone from his pocket and tapped it onto the wall. With a ripple, the wards collapsed. There would be some fixing to do before sunrise, but that wasn’t his problem.
A quick hop up and through the conveniently (and deliberately) unlatched window, and Harry was striding down the hallway towards his destination. He took quick steps, mentally consulting the floor plan he had long-since memorized. Weaving through the maze-like hallways of the building, he finally arrived in the Criminal Records archive. Now, the British Ministry would know exactly which Death Eaters the Bulgarians were still protecting.
Opening the third filing cabinet from the left, second row from the door, Harry began carefully rummaging through for the correct folder to duplicate, quickly plucking it out from among its brethren. Just as he was about the replace the original where it belonged, he heard a footfall behind him. Carefully drawing his wand from his pocket and swiveling on his heels, he turned to face the intruder. Long, familiar blonde hair and piercing blue eyes greeted him, as Fleur Delacour stood, frozen, halfway into the room, with her own wand in hand. Her eyes flicked from him, down to the open filing cabinet, then back to him again. With a slight smile, she approached with careful, measured steps. Reaching his side, she carefully extended her wand, and tapped the folder still in his hand, casting her own duplication charm. Dumbfounded, Harry could do nothing but finish replacing the original, and slide the drawer back shut.
Placing a finger over her full, beautiful lips, Fleur’s eyes flicked towards the door. Together, they returned to the hallway, and Harry could feel Fleur’s eyes on the back of his head as he double-checked that the wards had been properly restored. Turning to face her once more, he gave a sharp nod and tossed his head to indicate which direction he had to go. Giving him a nod in return, Fleur gave a similar nod in the opposite direction, then stepped forward to clap a hand on his shoulder, before striding off down the hall.
Quickly extracting himself from the building, Harry made his way away from the scene of the crime into the brisk Budapest night, records safely in hand. But, as he shrunk the folder to shove it in his coat pocket, he found said pocket already occupied. Withdrawing the small scrap of office stationery, Harry unfolded it to read the message within:
Harry,
My handlers were curious why the Records building was unoccupied tonight, but we could not let the opportunity slide. It seems we have some sorting out to do. Meet me at Szimpla Kert tomorrow at 9 o’clock. I will buy the drinks.
Fleur
Well, it seemed as if this job only got more interesting from here.