[center][b]1st December, 1999 – Aldenberg Manor
Albert Aldenberg[/b][/center]

“Excuse me, Jia,” Aldenberg’s voice was slow, and measured, although he stunned the room by speaking so soon into a meeting. His English accent was almost perfect, but a few tonal oddities made him sound simultaneously calm and a little alien. Nevertheless, just behind his beard, a face could be seen that appeared to be sucking on a lemon, instead of its usual stoic frown, “But I’m afraid that this is a Lohengrine Black. Nobody has been communicating outside the official channels with this little chap - Siobhan, would you let him back out, please? Thank you. Lohengrine Blacks are native to these very grounds: they are naturally attracted to the magical history of this place. I expect this one strayed a little too far. This is not a common occurrence, in my experience.”

The door opened: a sheepish David entered with a hurried “excuse me” and took a seat, bringing with him a faint smell of burnt leather. Albert didn’t ask, beyond welcoming him into the room.

“You must remember, my lady, that this manor is protected by numerous enchantments to detect and block magical threats, supervised by all of us. In addition, everybody in this room is equipped with a sneakoscope,” he turned to the room, reminded of previous discussions of a similar nature and of a previous life as a teacher of the incorrigible, “that they have been instructed to keep on their persons at all times. The manor is secure, and, if we take no risks, so are we.

“This telephone,” he continued, saying the term a little unsteadily, “Is a risk. I think I explained to you that the manor does not cooperate with muggle technology - like Hogwarts,” he added, helpfully, to illustrate his point. He picked up and dwarfed the phone with one large hand, gingerly using the other to pry open its screen. With one glance at its unnatural, blue-tinged light, he snapped the thing shut and half-placed, half-dropped it on the table, “We cannot rely on it, and your friends,” he smiled at Tanya and David, without actually opening the floor to them, “Seem to get by without the merits of the telephone, such as they are. Shall we drop this for now?

“As for the letter itself,” Apparently, Aldenberg had indeed decided to drop the matter for now, “This is foolishness. We cannot simply meet an unidentified enemy agent at a location of their choosing on the assumption that there is no ambush waiting for us. Opportunity though it might be, there will be other opportunities. If we meet our anonymous friend, whose letter I note we have [i]not[/i] been expecting to my knowledge, there may well be no further opportunities of any kind.”

He paused. He didn’t remember ever having spoken so much at a meeting, but, then, he didn’t remember the last time he had heard a suggestion quite so preposterous.

“As I recall, we were called for a meeting,” he turned to Ronan, “I would suggest that we continue as planned.”