He was still listening to the defense attorney, but Kurby's attention was more firmly fixed on the handcuffs now, studying them carefully as they slowly rotated in midair.  The metal was glimmering faintly again, this time in a grayish-purple hue that looked similar to the strengthening spells that he used sometimes when he was making things that needed to be durable.  But there was  something irregular about it, something strange that he couldn't quite put his finger on -- as if there were two layers to the spell, or like it hadn't quite been distributed evenly throughout the metal.

"Uh," he said, catching her question.  The werewolf hunter glanced back over at her, managing a sheepish look. 

"No, uh, I don't think there's too many," he said, waving his wand to lower the silver handcuffs back into the box.  They nestled neatly into their current home, the protective black fabric settling around them.  "I picked it up as a hobby after Hogwarts, but I dunno if there's anyone else here who messes around with it.  I've never run into anyone, at least."

That led to thoughts that were a little bit uncomfortable -- that if he were really trying to put together a list of suspects for the two gifts, he'd probably be at the top of it.  The custom-made silver handcuffs, the animosity towards Greyfriar, a semi-collection of reference books related to werewolves and access to Tenacious Twine...the obvious conclusion that one might reach was a little bit disconcerting.  All he really had to offer in his own defense was that he'd never exactly been one to hide behind anonymity.

"I'll check on Level Four's supply of Tenacious Twine, and see if I can catch Spectre once he's back next week," Kurby offered, glancing carefully at Harper again.  "Maybe we'll get lucky and turn something up."

She felt much more at ease with the handcuffs back in its place. Harper knew that, rationally, there was nothing else malicious about the cuffs... but she could swear that the more she looked at them, the more aware she became of the malicious intent behind their creation. Like it carried a piece of the person who had forged it.

"As a hobby?" she smiled a bit, distractedly. "That's lucky for us, I guess. Knitting isn't as useful to these investigations." Harper lowered the lid back on to the box and picked it up.

            "Maybe we'll get lucky and turn something up."

"Maybe," the witch sighed lightly, "but definitely let me know if you learn anything new from Spectre. I know it isn't technically my field but I'm invested now. Would be nice to get to the bottom of things, figure out who would send this to me on account of Greer..." she trailed off thoughtfully.

Greer. The young girl didn't know anything about the cuffs - and she wasn't going to tell. Greyfriar was going to keep an eye on her anyway. That's what all the Brits said. Hogwarts was the safest place to be.

"Thanks for your help." Harper offered her hand to shake, earnest. She liked Kurby and he was a useful friend to have. "I'll let you know if I hear anything on my end, too."

Apparently the pair of them had decided to play at being Aurors, despite their shared careful dancing around what was and was not in their respective job descriptions.  Kurby regarded the defense attorney’s proffered hand bemusedly for an instant before gripping it firmly.  Investigations might be propriety to the Auror Corps, but they could still circle around the edges of this one. 

There had been one other reason driving his visit today, besides wanting to take his own look at the handcuffs.  Originally, he’d been debating how best to explain things and how to present his thoughts on it; he hardly wanted to drag Harper into another messy case involving werewolves, especially when she’d been personally targeted after the last one.  The fact that she’d stolen a glance at Carstairs’ files at least made the context of his second request a bit easier to communicate.

“There was one other thing I wanted to ask you about,” he said, a bit carefully, as they started back out the door of the small evidence room.  Level Two or not, empty office or not, he couldn’t help feeling paranoid about who might be listening.  After all, the last time Tawse had caused issues for the Ministry, he’d had a mole on Level Two.  “You mind if we stop back into your office?”

            “There was one other thing I wanted to ask you about...” Bagnold began.

She was surprised - having thought his errand was complete - but not unpleasantly so. Harper liked being asked questions: it gave her an idea of where other people's thoughts were heading. The fact that he wanted to stop back in the office meant that it wasn't a throwaway query, however. Something serious then.

"Sure," she gave him a thoughtful look. "The intern should be back with my hangover potion by now anyway."

As casually prophesized, they were intercepted as Harper was letting them back into her office. The intern had passed her the potion with a curious but silent glance at Bagnold - and then disappeared just as quickly to do whatever interns did on Christmas eve. Harper pocketed the bottle before entering the room, shutting the door behind Kurby.

"I guess this question you have needs some legal expertise?" The witch sat on the edge of her desk, clever but unassuming in manner. "Shoot."

The defense attorney, as always, was agreeable and even-keeled.  Kurby tagged along with her back to her office, where the intern was waiting with the mercy-granting potion, and waited for Harper to close the door. 

"Yeah, sort of," he said, crossing his arms as he shifted a bit uncomfortably.  "But it doesn't necessarily have to fall on you this time."

Now that she'd been transferred to Level Two, Savvina Katopodis would surely be assigned her own lawyer.  It wasn't that he didn't trust the Ministry defense attorneys as a whole -- but in the short time he'd come to know her, he'd come to respect Harper Graves.  As much as he didn't want to force the American lawyer to take on another werewolf case, at the very least, he trusted her judgement in determining who would be able to handle a case like that of Katopodis.

"Reckon if you've already had a look at Carstairs' case file, then at least you know some of the background on this," he began carefully.  Swallowing, he looked over to meet Harper's gaze.  "There was a second werewolf at the zoo that night -- her name's Savvina Katopodis.  She was the one who killed the Muggle guards, but from what we can tell, Tawse kidnapped her, wiped her memories, and then turned her loose.  We brought her in after the attack, and she finally got transferred to Level Two yesterday."

So now she'll need a lawyer went unspoken.

He'd been feeling uneasy about this since he'd talked to Katopodis himself.  Of all of them -- save for the murdered Muggles who had lost their lives -- the Greek werewolf had faced the worst violations by Cinaed Tawse.  She'd been kidnapped, had her memories taken from her, and then was turned loose to do horrible deeds willed by another.  Now, after spending weeks waiting in limbo, she was going to have to answer for crimes that she hadn't wanted to commit.  It felt like the least he could do was make sure that she had a willing advocate.

"I don't want to drag you into another werewolf mess after someone already targeted you durin' the last one," Kurby said, shifting uncomfortably again from one foot to the other.  "But I was hopin' that if it was too much to ask you to take this on, you might have an idea of who else'd be up to it."  He rolled his shoulders backwards in a shrug, grimacing slightly.  "Katopodis was unregistered, but it wasn't her goddamned fault Tawse decided to turn her into a murder weapon."

Harper listened without interrupting, mirroring her visitor by crossing her arms as she settled more comfortably on the desk. It had occurred to her when she peeked into the records - the other werewolf, notes of unwilling involvement. Kurby clearly had strong feelings about this if he was suggesting what she thought he was; Katopodis must leave an impression commensurate to her circumstance.

            "I don't want to drag you into another werewolf mess..."

At this, though, the lawyer smiled a little. She was already in the middle of the 'mess' and didn't see the point in holding back anymore. What was the saying? In for a knut, in for a galleon? Greer must have only been the beginning.

"I'll see what I can do." Harper's mouth twisted into a thoughtful frown, "When I request a case, I usually get it if there's nobody else to contest me." Or if Carstairs saw a moral reason not to allow it, which she was sure he wouldn't. His wife was a werewolf and she liked to think he had some natural sympathy for these situations.

She slipped her hangover potion out of her pocket and unstoppered it while they spoke. "What happened to Katopodis was terrible and I agree with you. Those deaths aren't on her, and she should be considered a valuable person in the investigation rather than just a victim."

Harper paused to knock back the potion. It went down bitterly and she pulled a face, her freckled nose wrinkling.

"Anyway, it isn't too much to ask for. If you ever want to talk about any of this," she offered in a clear and direct voice to indicate it was genuine, "just drop an owl or a memo. Keep me in the loop insomuch as level four allows you to. I'm happy to listen."

One thing she'd learned from her time in the Ministry was exactly that: listening. You could get through hell if you knew when to talk and when to listen. Harper was ready to listen to Savvina Katapodis when she got a chance. And her hangover headache was clearing.

Somehow, it felt as if he were back in the isolation cell with Savvina Katopodis, standing at the edge of an ocean that was too still but stretched on forever.  If Ballentyne ever got word that he was asking Level Two defense attorneys for favors for unregistered werewolves who'd killed multiple Muggles, she'd do worse than tell him that he'd gone soft.  But something had felt wrong that day, and it hadn't just been the quiet of the Mediterranean scene all around them.  Katopodis had put people at risk by breaking the law, but he still wasn't sure that the law would have really protected them.

Graves, at least, seemed undeterred by the silver-plated threat that had been sent to her during her last werewolf-related trial.  Kurby still had misgivings about drawing her further into this when she'd already been targeted once -- when Tawse's involvement might paint an even bigger target on her back -- but the defense attorney was staunchly capable of judging the risks and making her own decisions.

"Anyway, it isn't too much to ask for," Harper began, and he relaxed slightly.  Unfortunately, he'd likely let his guard down too early, because the American witch also kept going.  "If you ever want to talk about any of this..."

Kurby stood still, looking a bit bewildered as he attempted to quickly and silently decipher whether she meant that he should feel free to share future professional updates as required, or whether she had intended it as a more personal offer.  The latter option left him feeling uncomfortable enough that he quickly decided that the best option was to simply breeze over the confusion.

"Uh, thanks," he said quickly, flashing her a smile that was only a beat too late.  "And thanks, uh, for whatever you can do with Katopodis."  He shot her a grin that was a bit more pointed, a hint of bemusement creeping back into his expression.  "I'd offer to owe you a drink sometime, but I reckon that's probably still a bit of a sore subject today."

She shot the wizard a curious look, confused by the pause preceding his reply. Had she said something wrong? Harper supposed if she had, it was easy to blame the hangover, but Bagnold pressed on in his regular way and she was reassured. It was the day before Christmas and they were talking werewolves (and werewolf hunters) so this wasn't a normal conversation to begin with.

            "I'd offer to owe you a drink sometime...still a bit of a sore subject today."

The witch laughed, tossing her empty potion bottle into the little bin by the desk. "How about you buy me a coffee if Carstairs greenlights my request for Katopodis?" She wasn't about to count her Ashwinder eggs before they hatched. "I'll meet with her first, to see if she's alright with me taking on the case."

Not all potential clients liked Harper. Women usually did, men were hit or miss. She relinquished at least three or four of them annually because they didn't think she was gritty or 'tough' enough. Apparently you could still be call out as as an innocent lamb no matter how old you are.

"Should be sometime after the new year," Harper glanced at the wall calender, which displayed the months of December '11 and January '12. Appointments were circled out in red, trials in blue.  "I'll drop you a memo when the paperwork is through, yeah?" she turned her attention back the Kurby.

He didn't look comfortable in here, Harper thought. Or in the Ministry at all. Like the aurors, Bagnold looked like he should be out in the open air, in the city. "Thanks for bringing this to my attention. I'll be sure to take precautions, if our handcuff-making friend decides to reward our initiative."

Based on his initial impression of the Greek werewolf, it seemed doubtful that Savvina Katopodis would raise an issue with Harper Graves taking her case.  Katopodis had a bit of a backbone to her, but Harper was calm, friendly, and competent.  Somehow, he couldn't see Level Two's newest prisoner raise a fuss over finally getting legal representation.

That was, assuming that Carstairs approved the defense attorney taking the case, and no one found out about Kurby meddling and decided to interfere in return.

Either way, he'd taken care of what he'd intended to, and Harper would manage things from here.  The werewolf hunter tossed her an easy two-fingered salute, turning back towards the door.  She hardly needed to thank him when he'd taken up her time and dumped more work on her plate, but he wasn't about to belabor the point.

"You happen run into him, let 'im know I'd like a word," he said, flashing her a fierce grin.  "Cheers.  Enjoy your Christmas," he added over his shoulder, as he headed back into the hallway.