Whatever you're up to, you'd better not go through with it.

Henry was sitting in one of the corner booths of the Leaky Cauldron, but one in the back where he could stay away from the hustle of doors blown open by patrons and breezes, away from Will and Erin as they ran dishes and drinks to the other tables. He had business that was inevitably more important than whatever these randoms were doing. And he knew full well that Declan was watching him from across the pub.

That was nothing new, though. His brother of sorts wasn't about to let Henry go merrily off into the world without a bit of wary questioning.

So Henry had ordered some beer or other that Will had suggested, though he was really only sipping at the foam. Perhaps once he spoke with Michael, he would need this. Or he would be celebrating by drinking it. He couldn't be sure which, yet, considering he'd only really heard of Michael through people like Jack and Oliver. And they of course had no idea what he was up to. Otherwise, Jack probably would've come charging in and found a way to arrest him.

So while he knew Declan was watching, Henry gave him no reason to cross over and check up on him. Casual as anything, the sports enthusiast sat back in his seat and watched one of the televisions Declan had set up to show Quidditch matches.

Robert had all sorts of capacity for weird, especially when it came to secrets. There were certain things that Robert just didn't do, and telling secrets was usually one of those things. It was one of those things that had taken Michael from Robert's office at the Ministry and, at the appointed time, had brought Michael to Diagon Alley.

"I need you to retrieve an artifact," Robert had said.

"What sort of artifact?" Michael had asked.

"It's a magical stone that's been missing from the Department of Mysteries now since about the time Harry and his comrades broke up a whole room of prophesies," Robert said.

"Are you saying one of them took it?"

"No, of course not," Robert said. "I doubt they'd have taken it, although, who knows how the war would have turned out if they had.  It's called the Heart of Envy."

"What does it look like?"

"I don't know. It was in one of those prophesies that apparently was destroyed."

"Where is it?"

"Don't know..." Robert began.

"Well, what kind of a stone is it?"

"Don't know that either..."

"So I'm looking for a magical stone, and I don't know what it looks like or where it is but I have to get it. Do you know how insane that sounds, even for you?"

"Here's the thing. It was found some years ago, apparently, by some muggle who found a chest of personal belongings to his great uncle Horatio, and the family believed Uncle Horatio was some sort of navy hero. This stone was amongst his belongings, wrapped in a page from an old book.  

"Turns out the page from the book was in runes and was part of Flamel's own writings because it spoke of the Philosopher's stone. The Heart of Envy was supposedly in Flamel's possession at one time, and, what we do know is that,  when the stone is pointed at another, it can reveal that man's greatest vulnerability or weakness to the man who is holding the stone. I presume there is an incantation that has to be cast at the same time, but I do not know that to be certain. The last thing we need is that sort of an artifact running about."

"Why is it such a wild hair now, though?"

"Apparently, Uncle Horatio wasn't a military man at all. He was a weak willed wizard, and he was merely a commissionaire of sorts who had been charged to transport the stone. As the story goes, Horatio stole away passage on a navy ship, and then never delivered the stone but kept it. So, it has gone all these years being hidden away in a sock in Horatio's trunk in some muggle's attic."

"So, let me get this straight. We have a powerful wizarding artifact that is running about unsupervised amongst the muggles?"

"Precisely."

"Bloody hell. Can't you lot keep all the toys in the toybox any better than that?"

"It was already missing when you and I started to work here, but we still have an obligation to get it back. Now, Uncle Horatio's great nephew does not like people in our age group. You'll need to take someone with you to get him to talk to you, so I'm assigning you an ally. Besides, he has a certain knack to these things, and he's an Order member. It may well be that we can help them and they can help us. You'll need to meet him at the Leaky."

"Do I know him?"

"I doubt it. His name is Henry. Just show up at the Leaky tomorrow, order yourself a pint and wait. He'll find you. And do try to remember you have to go amongst the muggles to get this done."

And so that was what had Michael, with his pack in hand, at the Leaky. He ordered a pint and made his way to the back in a corner so he could watch the people. When the server brought his beer, he began to look over the people in the pub, looking to see if he saw anyone who looked likely enough to be signed up for a mission to get something that they had no description of that was hidden anywhere on the planet.

Declan looked up when Michael entered, but didn't recognize the man enough to realize who he was. Still, the pub owner offered a polite smile and nod in greeting as Tremaine walked in, looking around for the person he was set to meet. Imagine, of course, Dec's surprise when Henry turned his head and lifted a hand. Even stood up halfway to get the man's attention.

Narrowing his eyes, Declan pretended to focus on the glasses that needed washing behind the bar despite obviously having the option to do so with magic. It would keep his curiosity and concern under some kind of constraint.

Henry waited for Michael to approach before he sat back down. "I presume Lupin sent you?" He asked, just to be sure. "I hope he told you that I have terms for going in on this." It was best, he decided, to warn the man in advance. But he glanced towards Henry, then down at his mug, before adding on, "Did you want to grab a pint before we really start discussing this?"

"Yes, he did," Michael said to Henry as the bartender brought a pint for Michael. "I'm good, thanks. I think they know my usual here. Terms, huh? Well, as usual, I wasn't read in on anything of that sort. What terms are we talking about?"  

He presumed Robert would have dealt with any necessary terms, and he rather leapt mentally to a perhaps erroneous presumption that it meant something probably about payment of some sort.

Michael didn't usually work on missions work with strangers, not partnering with them anyway. He could and did work with friends or family, but that was different. Michael's family, aside from his boys, were the pseudo-family he'd cultivated with his closest friends. Missions work with them was usually him lending an assist to them. Much of the Ministry work he did were solo assignments. He did mostly "recovery and reconnaissance"--meaning he stole back what someone else had stolen from the Ministry, or he extracted Ministry agents who had gotten themselves up to their proverbial eyeballs in alligators. The fact was that a catburglar, even a retired one, had a good average of being able to slither in and out of a lot of places before anyone knew he was there.

He wasn't sure what young Henry's thoughts were, nor what his strengths were in this business. And if he knew Robert, he doubted Robert had given Henry much information on Michael either. Well, Michael's terms were generally pretty simple: he preferred that they be able to trust each other at least on some basic terms for the task ahead.