The days leading up to the wedding were filled with a hundred and one tasks for the couple, and to spare Aurelia some of the burden of certain tasks, Hugh took care of many minor tasks in and around London. He had already picked up the clothing, accessories, and minor things, such as centerpieces, and sent them back home to Stanhope. There, the girls helping Aurelia would organize these things, and get them ready for the weekend.

On this final weekday before the rehearsal dinner and the wedding itself, Hugh dropped off the wedding announcement at the Daily Prophet, checked in with the string quartet Penhaligon, and made sure of their arrangements, and had lunch by himself in Diagon Alley before proceeding on his last stop: Gringott's Wizarding Bank. Aurelia had spent a fair amount of her own money on thigns like her dress and the bridesmaids gowns and some of the pretty accessories they were to use. She'd also ordered the flowers and decorations that were to be transported to the church at Eragny. So, for the final reception -- there were bills to be paid. The local restaurants, as well as Damian Mitchell, would be paid in advance. Damian hadn't been worried about the expense, and said it could wait until the couple returned from their honeymoon. Hugh had insisted on paying in advance, as the couple had for the beautiful rehearsal dinner at the Red Hawk.

So, Hugh decided to save Aurelia the strain on their joint account at Gringotts that they'd opened last month, and draw some specie from his own personal savings. The bank was crowded after lunch time, with many witches and wizards coming and going. He gave a thought to Roma De Luca, who had politely and sadly declined an invitation to the wedding as business travel for the bank had kept him in another country. But most everybody they had invited had RSVP'd for the wedding, and Hugh was pleased at that. In fact, many were bringing wives and sweethearts of their own. It made for a lot more mouths to feed that something like 300 residents of Eragny sur Oise were also expected. But Hugh and Aurelia weren't extravagant people, even if they were generous to a fault, so a hundred galleons to pay some final bills was all that was needed. The big expense that Hugh had kept secret so far had already been settled. These were just minor items to pay off.

In the lobby f the bank were the teller positions where the goblins of Gringotts worked, seemingly ever hour of every day. Hugh had his key with him, and got into line to wait for one of the gruff little humanoids to acknowledge him.

(Sorry short)

Of all the places in Diagon Alley that Quarme liked to go least it was Gringott’s Bank. Not only did he dislike goblins, but he never had much money in his vault. Usually it was to withdraw funds, rather than deposit them. However, today, he’d had a little luck. One of the leads he’d been working on for a new rug contract had finally decided to order some custom Persian carpets from the store; and on top of that he’d sold four more stories to the Quibbler. Today he actually had money to deposit for once, and as he entered the big doors, he finally felt as if he needed to go to the vault.

He had just been thinking about the wedding invitation he’d gotten several weeks ago from an old school friend – Hugh Kenrick – when he spotted his friend in line. He was in the same line to see Hubique von Snotterheim, his Vault Account Manager.

Quarme hadn’t RSVP’d for the wedding yet because he wasn’t sure if he had the money to go. According to the ornate invitation it was in FRANCE of all places. Quarme didn’t mind France so much, or even the people, but the food was godawful! Raw hamburger and snails, and fungus and whatnot. However, for his friend Hugh, and the girl he was marrying (a very nice girl from what Quarme remembered), he would stomach it. Now with a rather heavy bag of money in hand, he felt he owed his friend an answer, so he walked up and tapped him on the shoulder.

"I say, Hugh, good to see you!"

The familiar voice made Hugh turn, and he beheld the face of his old friend Ernest, better known as ‘Quarme’. He knew that the man didn’t really use his first name much, and he’d been teased enough in school about it. Hugh smiled, and shook his hand vigorously. Next to Jake, Quarme was a friend from the ‘old days’ that was always worth catching up with.

"I am good, Quarme, what’s up with you? Didn’t see a reply to my bluebird message about the wedding. I hope you can make it."

Hugh was well aware that Quarme wasn’t always a big traveler. He was a rather stay-at-home individual most of the time. But maybe his friend would venture out this time? He’d meet some new people, and maybe enjoy himself a little more. He didn’t have much of a life running the carpet store with his parents. Hugh never would say that to him, since he knew Quarme had always been a friend that supported him. It was an unwritten agreement to reach out when the timing was right.

"I’ve got a few errands for myself and Aurelia. If you’ve got a little time, we can walk and talk after we’re done here."

Darn it, Hugh was just too on top of things to be believed!

The inquiry about the wedding invitation clearly showed that Hugh had wanted him there, and Quarme was embarassed, but he didn't blame Hugh for asking. It had been weeks ago that the funny little bluebird thing had flown into Quarme's room above the shop and twittered on his desk. He'd known about the wedding from somewhere, but he hadn't expected it so soon.

"I'm sorry, Hugh. I really have been busy at work, and, well there's no one to watch the shop some days, and my parents are, well, you know them."

The elder Quarme's weren't the best salespeople, and worse than usual at bookkeeping. Quarme himself wasn't all that great, either, but he knew enough to keep the business afloat in its sea of red ink.

"But I will come to the wedding," he said, sincerely. "I wouldn't miss seeing my best friend celebrate a special day."

They moved up in line, and Quarme nodded at Hugh's idea. He was suddenly smiling, and he hadn't even tried to.

"A good walk, yes, right. I'd like to hear all about you and the bride-to-be. She's an awesome girl -- if that's the term, girl?" he ducked his head a little in a curious, turtle-like way, and swallowed. "And your parents -- very kind of them to order those new Persian carpets."

Quarme's protestations were typical of the man, and Hugh only smiled when he tried to explain why he hadn't replied. In the end, Hugh had to stop him, and shake his head.

"It's all right, no need to explain. I will add you as 'coming to the wedding'," said Hugh, chuckling. "It ought to be a wonderuful time, and so many of our old classmates are coming, too, it'll be like a reunion." He didn't ask whether Quarme was bringing a guest. Hugh couldn't remember the name of his last girlfriend, which was sad. Nice girl, tatooed, and short-haired, but Hugh recalled that she was into broomstick racing or something like that. A friend of Copper Lanive's if he remembered rightly. It just didn't seem like it would lead to a long term relationship with Quarme. A complete mismatch. Instead, Hugh filled him in on all the preparations for the wedding while they waited their turn, and all the hows wheres and whys of the wedding ceremony in France. It was a lot to report. This ate up a lot of time, and they were soon standing in front of Von Snotterheim, a surly goblin of pale green complexion. Hugh didn't mind goblins so much, and he was just another wizard to them. They got along just fine. He did all the talking, and he and Quarme would share a ride on one of the rail carts. Their goblin guide walked up to them, lantern in hand, and beckoned the two men to follow him.

"You'll see my parents at the wedding, and you can thank them if you want. The old ruin needed some new carpets. In fact, I may be visiting you soon on a similar errand, but I can't say anything more about it just now." He smiled in a conspiratorial way.

"There's a nice little hotel with rooms all reserved for you in Eragny, if you need one," said Hugh.

Being put on paid leave had left Chase with little more to do but try and stretch otherwise menial tasks, though with her friends' wedding celebrations looming in the very near future, she had gladly accepted certain favors that Auri herself were too tuckered to tend to. Besides, as the appointed maid of honor, Chase had plenty with which to preoccupy herself until the big day, and took advantage of the spare moments this morning to complete a few tasks for her father.

Despite having retired months ago, Chase's father still occupied a desk in the upper floors of the wizarding bank that hadn't been completely swept of his belongings just yet. She had spent the better part of that morning sorting through the remainder of the pile and was just on her way out of the lift with a boxful of random trinkets, prized quills, and other documents she deemed vital enough to save and deposit in her parents' vault.

If the box hadn't obstructed her view as the slim brunette emerged from behind the counter, Chase would have seen Hugh and Ernie as soon as she got off on the ground floor. Unaware that Hugh was about to approach the counter, she spotted a rather surly-looking goblin nearest to her, recognizing him as Hubrique.

"Hubrique! Terribly sorry to interrupt, but I'm taking my father's belongings down to his vault and--"

"Ah, Mizz Lang. 'Ow can I 'elp you with zat?"

"Well if you wouldn't mind taking me down to his vault, 718 - not the Lang vault but his personal one you see..."

As Chase shifted the position of the bulky box in her arms to grab the keys in her pocket, she caught a glimpse of a sandy brown head she thought she recognized across the counter, and a grin quickly broke across her face.

"Hugh!"

The footsteps of Hugh and Quarme on the marble floor were preceded by the slap and drag of their goblin guide as they walked to the boarding platform. They had not gotten far when the patter of feet of a different cadence rang in their ears, and Hugh turned at the sound of a familiar voice calling his name: Chase Lang. A smile broke out on his face. Thought Chase was often at the house for wedding tasks and chats with Aurelia, he rarely ran into her out in the Alley like this. Then he remembered she was on leave at the moment. They had benefited from Chase having extra time to help with the wedding preparations, but Hugh and Aurelia both knew that Chase was restless, and errands helped keep her occupied. Her evidence was evidenced by her excitement, and by a large box she had in her arms: But what it could contain, and what she was going to do with it were beyond Hugh's comprehension at the moment. Hubique Von Snotterheim was standing with her as she balanced the box, and it looked a bit comical.

"I say, let us hold that," said Hugh. "You know Ernest don't you? Ernest, you remember Chase from school, surely?"

It gave Quarme some satisfaction to know that he was going to get a chance to talk to Hugh, who always seemed to be in demand from someone. Although his friend was very generous with his time, it seemed a long while since he’d actually had a real conversation with him. Quarme’s business required his constant attention, too. Just as he was about to open his mouth to ask Hugh a question about writing an article on him, they were interrupted. There was Hubique Von Snotterheim with another person, a girl struggling to hold a box. He instantly recognized the features and the figure of Chase Lang – Auror, Maid-Of-Honor, Heiress, and former Head Girl of Hogwarts – and he stumbled after Hugh. (Damn him for being quick) to assist their friend with her cargo.

"Yes, hello, Chase," he said with a slight heel click and a bob of his head, as if he was addressing a foreign dignitary of high rank. But he was smiling at her, too as they went to her assistance. She looked the same:

Beautiful.

He wondered if she would even remember him, but he thought she would. She was a gracious person to her friends, and he was with Hugh besides. Hugh was marrying her best friend in the whole world, after all. Yes. He was glad to see her in such circumstances.

"I was just saying to Hugh that I was looking forward to seeing everyone again at the wedding. I love France, you know. Great, er, artworks, and whatnot."

By this time, Hubrique had fetched the keys from his own jangling collection and the trio had begun their trek to the trolley tracks, attracting no more than a few stares as the morning traffic cleared somewhat. Chase's dark eyes danced at the serendipity of their chance meeting, and was just about to refuse his offer to manage her box, but her momentary distraction at the re-introduction to Ernest Quarme allowed Hugh just enough berth to finagle her box away from her. With a somewhat bashful smile of thanks, she turned her steely gaze on Hugh's old classmate and it was but a moment before the flicker of recognition graced her features, and she reached out a slim arm to grasp his hand briefly, yet warmly.

"Ernest Quarme! I don't believe I've seen you since school - oh wait, your family owns that carpet emporium, if I recall correctly? My mum might've ordered a rug or two some time ago. Lovely to see you again. And yes - the wedding will be spectacular. We'll make doubly sure of it," Chase remarked genuinely, throwing a wink to Hugh, before her expression turned apologetic.

"So sorry I seem to have cut in front of you lot," she remarked offhandedly, casting a sweeping glance beyond them to the queue, "But my father's belongings - he'd neglected them before retiring so I've had to take care of the runoff, so to speak. How about I make it up to you two with lunch, if you're free?"

As they clambored onto the trolley, followed finally by the surly goblin who muttered something to himself, Chase glanced from Hugh to Ernest.

Hugh loaded the box onto the trolley, and found a seat in front of their driver, who was waiting for them to board and get comfortable. He had time to wait, and whatever the box contained, it seemed to be a priority for Chase. He said something about 'no need to apologize,' and smiled as he put on the seat belt. The trolleys were notoriously rickety and fast.

First stop Vault 718... intoned the goblin. Please keep your arms, hands, and tail inside the trolley

Once they were all in place, the small cart rocketed away from the station. Hugh held onto the bar in front of him, and the rush of wind roared over him as he saw the twisting, looping track they were on. When he'd been a boy, he'd actually enjoyed going to his parents vault because of the crazy ride. Now, however, he wished they'd come up with a better system. But goblins never did things for other people's convenience without a good reason. The clatter and bump didn't prevent him from asking Chase what she was doing with the special box, and he could hear her reply about her father's retirement. Hugh inquired after her father, although he'd met the man only at school functions in the past.

"I have a little time for lunch, Aurelia's shoe shopping today with Gretta, so we could go wherever you like. What say, Ernest?" he shouted over the rush of air. He ignored the stray bat that whisked over their heads.

Quarme never liked the cart rides very much, they were a lot like brooms: shaky and uncertain things. But for the sake of his friends, he gritted his teeth behind his lips and held on as they shot around curves and banked through dark tunnels like a crazy roller coaster. The first stop would be Chase Lang's vault, or one belonging to her family. He could barely hear what Hugh was saying over the rumble and roar of the cart on the tracks. Or maybe that was his stomach flopping around and his internal organs being squeezed by G-forces? He wasn't sure.

He couldn't close his eyes because it wouldn't look good in front of Hugh and Chase, but he wondered why he hadn't brought goggles with him, or even a pair of spectacles. He gripped his velvet bag of money tightly and waited for the ride to end, when he heard the pair discussing lunch or something. How could they think about lunch? It was unnerving. Even his favorite food -- pork chops -- seemed really unappetizing to him at the moment. But it would be in a nice restaurant at a table that wasn't moving.

"Absolutely," he heard himself saying cheerfuly. "My treat, though. This is a special occasion! After all, you two are going to be treating me to some of the finest entertainment I'm likely to see. It's got everything: Music, dancing, beautiful, er, women in gowns, romance. I meant the wedding, of course."

He tried to laugh, but it was all he could do to hang on.

"You still chasing Dark Wizards, Chase? What about you, Hugh? What was your last caper?"

Quarme hoped that they'd launch into some kind of story that would take his mind off the ride.

Chase hadn't wanted to go into the specifics of the trolley carts and the - frankly - rather archaic method of transportation that the goblins insisted on using after all these years; her father had mentioned it once or twice, how the wizarding members of the Gringotts Council had mentioned changing or at least altering the carts, but the goblins wouldn't hear any of it. The carts were how they operated and that was the way it would be for the foreseeable future, no matter what other Gringotts executives argued. She smiled sympathetically at her cart-mates. For her part, Chase had become largely accustomed to the topsy-turvy paths that the carts took and even found it moderately enjoyable. Much better than Floo by far, if you ask her.

Still, she offered them a bright grin, and shook her head emphatically in the wind that whipped her dark hair about wildly upon Ernest's offer.

"Oh Ernest, I couldn't let you do that - it's on me! Couldn't possibly suggest a meal only to have my companions pay for it. As for the dark wizards - " She shot Hugh a laughing glance, " - we can save that particular story for lunch. It's a long one, don't say I didn't warn you!"

The cart abruptly slowed to a stop, prompting them all to grip the handles lest they be thrown from their vehicle, and Hubrique couldn't contain the somewhat smug smile that crossed his features. Chase recognized the brass and gold plaque that decorated the massive door of her parents' vault, #718, and gingerly removed herself from the cart with the box trailing magically behind her.

Wasting no time, Chase retrieved the keys from the pockets of her slim, black trousers and, with a flourish of her wand and a few clicks, the vault's door vanished from sight to reveal a cavernous opening. The contents within were shrouded by darkness, as this particular passage was illuminated only by the flicker of a single torch by the doorway, but the enormous and meticulously-organized stacks of trunks and boxes were enough to suggest the quantity of the fortunes within. She set the box down atop the nearest stack, which seemed the freshest judging by the lack of dust, and - with the upcoming expenses in mind as well as her parents' contribution to Hugh and Aurelia's wedding gift - she quickly opened another trunk to remove a number of galleons from its compartments and shoved them into her dragonskin pouch.

Clamboring back aboard the cart, she thanked Hubrique and glanced between Hugh and Ernest again, somewhat uncertainly.

"Who's next?"

Hugh waited by the cart with Quarme while Chase finished her deposit into the family vault. Hugh brought out his own key and the portfolio of important paper things he also needed to deposit. There were a number of things that Hugh had done in the flurry of preparations for the wedding. He had copies of various legal documents, guardianship paperwork, marriage license, as well as some paperwork for his and Aurelia's joint vault at the bank. He was also going to make a withdrawal in coin for the wedding gift.

When Chase returned, Hugh helped her into the trolley once more, and signaled the driver.

"That would be me next, I think. Vault #333, please."

Once they were all safely in, the goblin released the braking lever, and the car sped off down another tunnel, but it was only a short distance to Vault #333; as it was an older vault like the Lang family's. Back in the day, there had even been a marriage between one of the Kenrick ancestors and the Langs, but the family paths had gone in very different directions since then.

The trolley accelerated, and then slowed again and it came to a stop before an elaborate copper, steel, and brass door set into lanterns on hooks on either side. The number 333 was etched into the keystone of the arched door. Hugh handed the key to the goblin, who opened the intricate wards and magical locks with practiced ease, and handed Hugh back his key. The vault itself was a family vault, but Hugh was using more than his parents these days. Inside were some old trunks with family things inside, along with a couple of suits of armor (magical of course); a few works of art; and a series of new magical chests that contained the family fortune. These coffers had rarely been used in recent centuries. However, with the new business of the winery, Hugh's own collectors' fees from the artifact recovery, as well as savings from a variety of ventures, things were looking distinctly more golden.

There was also a large cupboard with subdivided sections for important papers. Hugh quickly filed the copies of the Marriage Documents; Joint Vault paperwork; as well as Hugh's own will. They would re-draw their will together as soon as they were actually married, but Hugh had made some adjustments to make sure Aurelia and the children would be well taken care of in case anything happened to him.

Then, the purple and gold folder containing an un-executed copy of the lease-to-own paperwork on Fallingwater was deposited to be retrieved after the honeymoon.

Once he had the money he needed as well, Hugh had the goblin seal the vault.

"You're next, Quarme," he said, and settled once more into the trolley's hard seat.

He stood up from the cart when they arrived at Hugh's vault. A big thing with fancy lamps and all. He was curious about the paperwork that Hugh had with him, but he hadn't mentioned what it was. He presumed it was private family stuff, so he stayed quiet. Then they were able to head for the last stop on their roller coaster tour.

Unfortunately for Quarme, his own vault was in the new section, Number - 12,784 1/2 (he could only afford a small vault) The cart had a long, nauseating journey, but with the company of the splendidly affable Hugh Kenrick and the very conversational and witty Chase Lang, he hardly noticed. He chattered away during the journey, and talked about the wedding plans, the volatility of the wool and samnite markets, and other mundane things. Anything so that he could look at his friends faces and not the walls and tunnels whizzing by at breakneck speed.

"Where do you recommend we eat lunch? I've been to every eatery on the Alley of course. What say we try something in this new section, what's it called Hugh? Sunken London?"

The cart screeched to a stop in front of 12,784 1/2.

Of course, when he got off the cart in front of the vault, he promptly fell down from the vertigo.

"I'm all right, just fine," he said, waving away any assistance.

Chase had snuck a few curious peeks at Hugh's vault as subtly as she could, though she thought she saw Ernest do the same. A smile twitched about her lips but she didn't say anything. The Kenrick's family vault seemed to contain a much more interesting assortment of valuables and curios, but then again, they were a much more cerebral sort of pureblooded family than her father's side. Come to think of it, she hadn't paid the Lang family vault (#174) a visit in some time, though the last time she was there she hadn't recalled seeing anything even remotely fascinating.

Certainly they possessed fewer artifacts of historical significance than the Kenricks, and Chase didn't consider trunkloads of gold any more interesting than an old locket, so she doubted that she would've found anything worthy of two glances in her own family vault. Besides, she usually split her earnings with her parents and utilized their vault, anyhow. They had forbade Chase from opening an account of her own, given her father's clout within the establishment anyhow, and she had resigned to their overprotectiveness.

As they approached Ernest's vault, the last stop on their little roller-coaster ride of a trip, they were merrily discussing upcoming events and the whereabouts of their lunch date. With a jolt, the cart came to a violent stop - the newer tracks paradoxically were not yet primed enough to withstand the aged carts, apparently. She had barely had a chance to steady herself when Ernest clambored out of the cart and promptly stumbled again. Reaching out to grab the edge of his coat, Chase clung on while getting to her own feet.

"Ernest, are you sure you're quite alright?"

Hugh was always fascinated by how Quarme could serve up obscure facts and make them interesting; perhaps it was a trait they shared. Aurelia thought Hugh's babbling was rather cute, but he'd mastered the habit better since school. Quarme seemed much the same as ever today, although he seemed quite happy, much more buoyant than Hugh had seem him in some time. It must be the fact that he was doing better with the business -- he rarely talked about it if things were bad. He also knew about his friends' dislike of speed. (He'd never taken to brooms, even yet)

Chase was quicker off the mark to steady Quarme as he succumbed to some kind of dizzy spell, but Hugh reacted by lighting the area more brightly with his wand. The small yellow lamps in the newer section simply weren't as effective as in the older sections. He got out of the cart as well, while the goblin looked on, seemingly oblivious to human clumsiness. Hugh quickly responded to Quarme's suggestion.

"There are some good places to each in Sunken London. The new entrance is at the other end of Diagon Alley." Hugh explained that over the last eight or nine years, many new businesses had opened in what had been a part of London that sank beneath the street level in 1871. Now preserved from the sight of muggles and their underground tubeways, the Victorian-era buildings were a perfect complement to the rest of Diagon Alley. Hugh's mother had opened a new shoe store there.

"Maybe the Gaslighter?" he suggested, while they waited to Quarme to finish his depositing.

Mortified by his clumsiness, Quarme was grateful for Chase's steadying arm. She was much smaller than he was, but very strong for her size, he noticed.

"Yes, thanks, much better now. I get these spells of vertigo. It'll pass off," he said to her.

He handed over his key to the goblin, and waited as the narrow door was unlocked. He felt the weight of the bag of coins in his hand, and took out a few galleons to keep for lunch and shopping the next couple of weeks. Then he considered Hugh's question.

"Yes, I think that's a capital idea. I never get a chance to look around in Sunken London," he said, nodding. "I've heard the rental is quite reasonable. Not that I'd ever move our shop. No."

When the door was open, Quarme said 'be right back', and hurried inside the tiny vault, and put his cash and valuables from the week's sales into the chests he kept on the shelves. He looked briefly at a couple of rare carpets that he had brought back from Anatolia, and considered whether or not one of the flying ones was appropriate for a wedding gift. He decided to think about that a little longer. He wasn't sure that Hugh and Auri would really need one. Hugh had an amazing flying car. Besides, rugs were so boring. He wanted to give the couple something really special. Yes, it would have to be something entirely non-ruggish.

He exited the vault and it clanged shut behind him, and smiled at the pair.

"Lead me anywhere, the Gaslighter you said?"

Ernest seemed to have recovered speedily, so Chase released his arm as soon as the danger of keeling over had passed. Certain newer passages at Gringott's were still under construction and therefore somewhat poorly lit, and she shot Hugh a grateful smile at his quick thinking. Proper illumination of the otherwise dank tunnels merely highlighted the odd beehive-like construction of the newer vaults, at which she couldn't disguise her cringe.

Thankfully, Ernest scrambled his way back to the cart keenly, as though he didn't want to remain there a second longer than they did. Chase listened thoughtfully as Hugh outlined the specifics of their destination. It had been awhile since she had had the spare time to pay Sunken London a visit.

Though now that I'm on leave I suppose it's high time for a trip, she mused somewhat dejectedly; no matter how much reassurance the Minister of Magic could give her, a nagging part of her - whether out of habit or workaholism - missed the Ministry walls sorely. At Ernest's proclamation, however, she perked up.

"Ahh yes - Damian gave the place high recommendations. What are their specialties?" she inquired curiously, but didn't get a chance to hear Hugh's response before the cart shot off once more, this time for the lobby.

Not too much later, the cart jerked to a stop back at the loading area. Hugh thanked the driver, and they stood once more in the lobby of the vast depository. Hugh explained how to get to the Lamplighter from Gringotts. It was a little bit of a walk, as the entrance from Diagon Alley to Sunken London was at the far end from the bank, but the weather wasn't too bad outside. He said that it had gotten four stars in a recent Witch Epicurean magazine that Aurelia liked to read.

"We're partil to the place becuase it was one of the first to open there, and it was a sort of early date with Aurelia. The time we went there for clues. That was when Mildy's friend, Mr. Phillips and his company were contracted to fix it up," he said. He'd never forget that trip, and how much fun -- and dangerous situations they'd gotten into.

Hugh led his friends down the Alley, pausing only when something new or startling was on display on a shop window. The number and type of new businesses had grown since Hugh was in school, and the additional square blocks of Sunken London below them made expansion even more possible.

"My family's shop, for instance," said Hugh. "My mother opened it last year. It was tough for a while, because so many people prefer Diagon Alley, but we have hopes for it."

The actual entrance at the far end of Diagon Alley was a large cage elevator that descended from the street level to Sunken London, a distance of more than ninety feet at this end. It was crowded with daytime shoppers, and other wizarding folk at this hour, so they waited until a second elevator arrived to take them below ground.

Sunken London looked like a page out of Victorian-era London picture books, although modern plumbing and other conveniences had been installed in the ten or so years since it had first opened. It now sported residences, a fresh food market, a large theater, an Owl Post office, as well as an assortment of businesses.

The Gaslighter Restaurant was a nice place near a square that had sunk beneath street level. It sported a fountain and the restaurant had one other advantage over Diagon Alley: Weather. It was always a comfortable temperature, and the artificial sky above reflected actual daylight above, but the rain clouds were not to be feared.

The trio were admitted and found a cafe table, finely dressed with silverware and white linen, so they could see the street and the traffic. Horseless carriages (literally without horses, not cars) went to and fro so people didn't have to walk everywhere. There was talk of a streetcar system, too. About 16 blocks long and eight blocks wide, it was a big area that went from the River Thames well out into the inner city of London.

"Here we are," said Hugh. The waiter handed out menus.

The walk was pleasant and swift, and it felt good to be doing something other than making sure no elephant moths were squashing the threads of new carpets in the shop. Quarme had his umbrella with him as they window-shopped their way down the street, but no rain came. He'd never spent a lot of time in the new areas of Sunken London, although Hugh seemed very enthusiastic in describing how it all came about. Quarme hadn't been one of Hugh's adventure party in the school days, but his friend had told him excerpts of all they had done, and Quarme secretly wished that he'd been a bolder person in those days. Life would have been more interesting in the Halls of Hogwarts.

At the restaurant, Quarme hadn't been expecting such a place even existed. He took most of his meals either at home above the shop, or in simple cafes.As they sat down, he gazed in awe at the artificial sky above, and how much it resembled the one in Hogwarts Great Hall.

"This is nice," he observed, as he picked up his menu and looked at the different dishes offered. It was actually rather moderately priced. Not that Quarme ever worried about spending money on luxuries, but things had been tight the past few years.

"I was thinking," he said as the waiter brought a drinks tray, "I was thinking that I might try my hand at journalism." He looked to Chase, whose opinion he valued as much as Hugh's. Both were in the Ministry, and the press had a bad reputation there from the days of Voldemort. "I can't speak with authority on these things," he said, "but I think if the Quibbler liked my articles, I might aim higher. A good and free press is important, to quote Minister Rostron."

The walk over to Sunken London had been speedy enough, and Chase was glad for the freshness of the passing breeze that - although reminiscent of the same type of heaviness that rain clouds brought forth - stood in sharp contrast to the stagnant air of Gringott's. She never quite understood how her father managed it.

She paused occasionally to examine pretty trinkets and baubles on display in the shop windows, unable to ignore the vague 'oh, Darren might like that' reminders that cropped up here and there. New romantic interests invariably brought with them a newfound interest in appearances, no matter how immune Chase thought herself to be. She was glad when they were seated, and had been perusing the menu thoughtfully when Ernest piped up.

"Journalism?" she echoed, steely eyes gazing up to meet his features, "I think that's a lovely idea. Trevor's brother works there as a minor editor of sorts - Brady Jennings, he was a Hufflepuff a few years above you two - and I could ask him for an introduction or two. It couldn't hurt. Do you have a few sample articles you could send along?"

The waiter placed their glasses before them just then, and lingered politely just beyond earshot as though ready for their orders.

As Hugh looked over the menus and tried to decide on fish or chicken, Quarme revealed that he was considering writing for the Quibbler or another newspaper. It wasn’t something that Hugh had ever thought his friend would do, but it made sense to him now. Quarme was good at asking questions and getting to the heart of things, even if he wasn’t a social person. In fact, he had a quiet way of disarming people that Hugh had always admired. He hadn’t read more than a couple of articles that Quarme had written, but they seemed competent enough.

“I agree with Chase, some of the journalists they have a pretty much obit writers, your stuff would be more interesting. I don’t know about the level of journalism at The Quibbler these days, but I know they’ve upgraded the place with some professionals running it.”

The Quibbler had started as somewhat of a family operation back in the day, but it had become famous as a free voice of the people during the Voldemort years, when the Prophet and other journalistic enterprises had been too frightened/cowed/controlled to reveal what was really going on. Now it was still family owned, but a number of younger, keener minds were running it as a more legitimate competitor to The Daily Prophet, and there was less of the ‘yellow journalism’ aspect to their publication.

“I know that a couple of our ex-classmates jumped from the Prophet and Witchmapolitan to The Quibbler; I can give you their names, too. Martin Padway was a year ahead of us, he works at the Quibbler now, and he’s won awards. You ought to talk to him, I know him slightly because he interviewed me on the Paulag Cat caper a year ago.”

He was glad that his friends approved his choice of new career, well, a career that he hadn't quite started yet. But their encouragement, and Chase's offer to help were enough to make him a little more confident that he might actually do it. Things had seemingly come easily to Hugh, as well as to the ever-attractive Chase, or so some believed. In his mind he knew they had both worked hard at everything, and that they wouldn't say that any of it was easy -- certainly not.

"Thank you, Chase. I do have all my clippings. If you think Trevor's brother would pass them to the right people, I'll get them for him." He also wrote down the name that Hugh gave him. Padway. Yes, horn rimmed glasses and dark hair, always quick with the jokes but never had any trouble with school assignments.

He ordered a large steak for himself, and a baked potato, and then re-focused on his two friends.

"I was thinking I could start small. You know, human interest stuff. I know everyone wants to cover Quidditch, but I'm not a sports fan, really. I mean I like watching, but I don't really catch the fever much. Or maybe I could do travelogues, those are popular. Of course, I don't travel much at all..."