This is a sequel to Green Ink. I recommend reading that first. If you have already, then welcome back.

"Alvic, get your arse down here!" a familiar voice echoed up from the hole a couple of feet away from me, "It's another one of those hexy locks."

"Hexy locks" I muttered incredulously as I heaved myself into the underground passage from which the voice had originated. I had spent nearly eight months in Peru, and this was my first solo project as official team code breaker. The odd snake bite and plant sting aside, things were going surprisingly well. Certainly a lot better than the beginning of my training, which had resulted in the near collapse of an unspeakably ancient goblin mine, the saviour of it by my instructor had done nothing to prevent Penrook, goblin and chief appraiser, refusing to speak to me for the rest of the six months. Fortunately Jagrin, our resident goblin for this excursion, seemed a little friendlier, for a goblin anyway.

I made my way over the dank smelling earth in the passage until I came to the aforementioned lock. It was set into a vast stone door, nearly twice my height, and the mechanism worked its way across its vast breadth. Pippa, the voice which had spoken earlier, stood beside it, her face streaked with sweat, behind her stood Simon, a historian who, while sweet, hadn't quite become accustomed to working underground yet. He looked more pale than ever in the flickering light.

"Get it open would you?" Pippa muttered impatiently but not unkindly, I can sense treasure on the other side of this door.

I was inclined to believe her. Pippa's senses hadn't been wrong yet, it was a useful quality in a team leader. Giving her a brief nod I tied my hair back, I had refused to cut it despite the heat, and inspected the lock more closely.

Pippa's evaluation, while lacking in eloquence, had been correct. This lock could give everyone here a nasty shock if it was handled incorrectly. The goblins which had built these underground caverns had been reluctant to give up their treasures so easily, even thousands of years on. I drew my wand from my belt, tapping at the door experimentally, between that and the runes engraved on the vast body of the door I could deduce there were five individual bolts, each one requiring a particular magical construction to open it. It would require some delicate handiwork, but it would be possible. I produced a quill and parchment, ignoring Pippa's exasperated sigh, and began scribbling down some calculations. It didn't take too long, my Arithmancy skills had vastly improved since my time at Hogwarts, a time which seemed an age ago. When I was sure I had come to the correct solution, I began the first enchantment.

It was intense work, and even Pippa knew to keep her mouth shut while I was conducting it. A few months ago my hand would have been shaking, but I had grown in confidence since, and instead found myself relaxing into the absolute precision of the spell. A subtle creak of metal indicated the first bolt had moved back into the home. I shook my shoulders, wiped the sweat from my brow and turned to the second. Twenty minutes later, the final bolt shuddered into place and the door slowly creaked away on its hinges.

"Nice work" Pippa grinned, clapping me on the shoulder. "Let's do this."

Simon smiled too, excitement lighting up his youthful face. He was muggle-born, and had come here from Hogwarts a few years before me. I hadn't known him, despite the fact he had been a Ravenclaw. That was hardly surprising to be honest, he seemed the type to keep himself to himself, and I barely saw him out here in Peru, except on the job.

Pippa heaved open the door with a deceptive strength for someone of her size. She scarcely reached my shoulder, but her thin body was taught with muscle. She was an old hand at this, having worked on projects like it since before I was born. It was she who led the way into the next chamber.

And what a chamber it was, vast, as large as three of the Great Hall at Hogwarts, and so high that it seemed impossible that something as diminutive as goblins could have carved it. But if the room was impressive, its contents where more so. No gold, or finery, but scrolls, thousands of them lining every wall. Simon gave a cry, the loudest noise I'd heard from him, and rushed towards the nearest shelf, gaping wildly at the selection.

"History!" he exclaimed running towards them, "folklore, ancient spells, this is incredible." He was like a kid at Christmas, "who knows, maybe they'll even have the secret of their forging here?"

"Unlikely" said a dry voice from behind me, I turned to see Jagrin standing in the doorway. If he was shocked he didn't show it, but surveyed the room with a hungry look in his eyes.

"No?" Simon asked him timidly, while we were all wary of Jagrin I got the impression that Simon was the only one truly scared of him.

"Foolish boy" the goblin continued, "the goblin's passed on their knowledge father to son, why write it down and risk exposing the techniques to wizards?" He said the last word with a bitter hiss.

Simon looked red faced, but the discovery seemed to have given him an enthusiasm that even Jagrin couldn't quell. "Riza, come and see this!"

Apart from Jagrin, of course, Simon and I were the only members of the team able to read the ancient runes the scrolls were written in. Dizzy with excitement, I headed over to Simon and joined him pouring over the ancient parchment. The amount of knowledge here was staggering, truly staggering, the remnants of a lost civilisation. The goblin settlers in Peru had vanished hundreds of years ago, with no real record as to why. Part of this series of explorations was to find out why. Perhaps these scrolls might provide the answers we were after.

Pippa was surveying the room with an experienced eye. "This is good stuff" she nodded approvingly, "very good." She didn't bother to inspect any further, but stayed where she was, overseeing the vast room. "It must have been a library." She remarked, fairly obviously, "I think the ministry will be very interested in this."

The next hour or so was spent discussing the logistics of transporting the scrolls to the surface. Despite their age they had been well preserved, so at least they wouldn't fall apart on the journey. By the time evening fell the last of the batch had been safely transferred into the preservation vehicle, heading for HQ in Lima, after which it would be transported to London. Jagrin watched wordlessly as the scrolls where packed up, his face unmoving but stern. Understandably perhaps he viewed the scrolls as exclusively goblin heritage, but, as I had no desire to explain to him, it was our heritage too. The early goblins had laid the groundwork for much of wizard society, and I, at least, believed that the two species were more closely connected than perhaps either one was ready to admit. Still, I shared his hope the scrolls might be returned to the goblins, after the information in them had been recorded.

When I returned to my room late that night I found Leonard waiting for me. Despite being a rat he seemed to have taken a dislike to the cold dark of the mines and chose to spend his days sunbathing on my windowsill. He was, as I had remarked to him, slightly pathetic.

Next to Leonard was another familiar creature. I smiled to see Quaffle, Wood's Owl, sitting on the corner of my bed. "Hey there" I muttered to her, giving her one of the treats I kept in my drawer, and detaching the letter. Wood had written to me almost weekly since my time in Peru, and for the last few months all his letters had been complaining about how "grossly unfair it was that the Triwizard Tournament had only happened after we left." It had even taken up more of the letter than Quidditch, and his continuing training with Puddlemere. When I opened this letter I knew something was wrong. Instead of the pages of rushed scrawl, there was only one line.

You have to come home. Diggory has been murdered.

AN: So I'm back. I'll try and get as much as this done over the summer. As you might have guessed, this shall be a slightly darker story than the last, which makes sense given the events which will provide the backdrop.