“Leave Pepper in one piece won’t you? He’s an apprentice, lots to learn.” Mr Gamp intervened, looking to the vampire before he went off with Penny. Ambrose was glad someone was dealing with her sobbing, but that meant he was left alone with the grumpy vampire and NOBODY TO RESCUE HIM.

“We don’t all know each other.” Ambrose visibly shrank a little at the stare. “… in this one case… believe you were acquainted with my friend.” Ambrose’s surprise was clear on his gormless face. He’d gone from thinking he was completely (and rightly) stupid for asking to a certain validated confidence.

Despite the awful exchange, the vampire introduced himself, and even said it was nice to meet him. Ambrose only felt this was the sort of dangerous sort of polite that normally suggested a trap. He’d sauntered into more than his fair share of those growing up, and this would be a rare occasion he noticed one before he was already in it.

Oh no, maybe not today after all.

“I had a teacher with the same surname as you.” Ambrose spoke before his brain could point out it might be a good time to be polite and go find somewhere else to be for a little while. “Professor Vaillancourt. She taught me potions.” He was staring at Tristan again. “She had red hair, and …” wasn’t a vampire. He swallowed, brain wishing mouth had waited. “… common surname, maybe?”

“When you are done with… whatever this is, Cepheus, I require your assistance.”

“Of course.” Cepheus agreed with a respectful nod. Ambrose Pepper could dig his own grave.

Standing in the doorway of Ballantyne’s cluttered office, Cepheus vainly hoped Penny might be able to save face and finish the conversation with the minimum of support. Ballantyne had agreed to at least contain the discussion, but it seemed any assertive action was enough to set Penny’s delicately balanced confidence off kilter.

He lowered his cat mug from his lips and shot his fellow Division lead a rather schooled look to suggest she give the younger witch a chance before uttering gently,

“Keep it together Penny.” It might have caused further waterworks if Kayla hadn’t reappeared at just the right moment with hot drinks. Everyone felt a little better for a tea, and Kayla’s tea-making abilities were one of her better skills.

“Here we are, one for you Madam Ballantyne, and one for you Penny.” Ceph’s secretary held out a mug that she must have picked out from the very motley assortment in the kitchen. It was emblazoned with positive messages.

“Thank you, Kayla. That’ll be all.” Cepheus instructed, keen to get rid of the nosiest person in the room, even if she had just done them all a favour. Kayla managed to mask her dismay at not being allowed to remain a fly on the wall, but only just. She shot Penny a reassuring, friendly smile and vanished.

“What is it you need Ballantyne to do, Penny?”

Penny clasped her mug of warm tea gratefully. She lifted it to her salty tasting lips for a sip. Extra sweet, like Kayla knew how to make it. On the other side of the desk, Madam Ballentyne took her cup and placed it on the desk, none too prudently. Penny lifted her sleeve, wiping her eyes for a moment before drawing a deep, calming breath. Cepheus was next to her, coaxing her. Ballentyne would have to give in.

“Madam Ballentyne, you’ve been parted from us for a p-p-profound amount of passing time. You n-n- It is a prerequisite that you partake in a Pickler Presentation on Policy for Parity on Four. I p-p-d-d-don’t make up the p-procedures, Ma’am.”

“Just the course titles.” Bruce commented. Penny took another deep breath and a gulp of tea.

“I’d profoundly prefer it if we could p-perch.” She tried a smile, strained and nervous. It gave her the expression of having bad wind. Bruce scanned to her side, at Gamp who must have given her a look, because the werewolf relented and lowered herself into her seat.

“W-w-werewolf capture unit are o-overdue, too. Mr B-Bagnold keeps saying no.” Mr Bagnold was mean and unpleasant. Not Penny’s pinch of pepper, at all.

“Mr Bagnold is in charge of the WCU, Miss Pickler.” As if she’d decided they were done, Bruce picked up a quill and dragged some parchment down from a pile. Penny scanned sideward t Cepheus, pleading for his help. Her knight in shining armour. Her paladin in purple pantaloons.

There was a little progress in the room as Penny managed to produce the cause of the disagreement.

“Bruce,” Cepheus addressed gently, “Penny needs agreement, or this starts working its way upwards.” He made a face that suggested this was not something that anyone wanted. “It’ll be something outstanding on the Division records for Carter to pick at, and when Level 1 start pursuing it… well, word is a whole team on Seven had their pay frozen for failing to attend three mandatory sessions in a row, and a disciplinary each.” Word had got out the other month, and it had made an altogether very awkward situation for all.

“Like a howler, these things are best endured sooner than later.” He suggested, “Speaking from experience.” He glanced to Penny.

There were only four days until their watch would begin for the January full moon. It was also the point in preparation that Kurby hated the most: when the focus shifted from developing strategy and practicing tactics to filling out forms, completing paperwork, and getting signatures from Level Four leadership.

This month was proving to be worse than usual due to all of the interdepartmental cooperation.  Kurby had spent most of the morning trying to decipher whatever the hell it was he had to fill out for Mysteries.  After resorting to badgering Harris, who had taken five years of Ancient Runes at Hogwarts, he'd finally gotten enough of it completed that he could probably get away with dumping the rest of it on Ballentyne's desk.

There was some kind of commotion happening in the hallway, but the werewolf hunter ignored most of it as he made a beeline the Head of the Werewolf Wing's office, save for giving a brief, collegial nod to Tristan Vaillancourt.  Ballentyne's door was closed, but he generally took that as more of a suggestion rather than a guideline. Kurby pushed it open without knocking and started inside, still fiddling with the papers inside the folder.

"Ballentyne, I need you to --" 

He stopped short as he glanced up.

Ballentyne was there, sitting behind her desk; he recognized the dour expression on her face, which usually meant that someone hadn't taken the hint that she wanted a conversation to be over.  Sitting across from her were Cepheus Gamp and Penny Pickler, who were enough to ruin anyone's morning.

Well.  Getting signatures could wait.  Without giving anyone a chance to react, Kurby immediately turned around and vanished back into the hallway, pulling the door shut behind him with a loud slam.

Bruce was biting the inside of her cheek when Cepheus proceeded to inform her that refusal would make its way up. Of course, that was probably the procedure, but she could hardly see Penelope Pickler having the audaciousness and the nerve to actually report it to Alec Carter. Bruce would not be attending a refresher course on how to be politically correct when she was a sodding werewolf. She’d been outed as gay as a teenager in Hogwarts. She knew how things worked. She knew what words meant and how much words and attitudes could hurt a person. She didn’t need Miss Penelope Pickler, who’d clearly never been on the wrong side of judgement in her life, telling her how to avoid offence.

As she’d been on the cusp of an irritated response, the door was pushed open and Bagnold entered with a folder of parchment. He took one look at her ‘guests’, one look at her, and left. It was with enormous jealousy that his superior watched him depart, unscathed.

She scanned back to Pickler and leaned forward, arms crossed on the desk.
“Miss Pickler, I am a muggleborn, gay werewolf with a crippled leg and a walking cane working as the Head of the Werewolf Wing. I do not need you or anyone else telling me how to avoid political incorrectness because I am the person you teach about. Take that to Carter, by all means.” She glanced at Gamp, and waved her hand. “Bagnold can sort himself out, Cepheus. Despite appearances, he’s an adult.”

There was a moment where Penny’s nostrils looked like they were flaring. Then, creepily, she was suddenly smiling. A wide, fake and all too cheery smile. “That’s why I’d prefer you to participate with the presentation, Madam Ballentyne. Present with me on your problems.”

That was the last straw. Bruce’s glare turned dangerous.
“Get out.”

Well, Cepheus thought, he couldn’t say he hadn’t tried. It was hard being the sole member of middle management with a speck of patience on Level 4. Enough patience to sympathise with the job Penny had been tasked with. Sadly, Ballantyne couldn’t quite see that from the high horse she’d climbed on to decide she ticked enough diversity boxes and knew it all.

Penny, to great surprise, took it remarkably well with a fake smile. There were no more tears. It gave Cepheus a bad feeling. It was rather like the time Tristan had got Pratt and Pinn sent to Penny for their attitudes, only Cepheus had managed to head Penny’s follow up complaint off at the pass. Ballantyne had just given her permission to report this refusal to comply to Carter.

Mug still in one hand, Ceph swiftly and lightly touched Penny’s arm to prevent another response.

“Thank you,” he said, though it didn’t sound like he truly meant it, “I’ve no doubt Penny’s due diligence will resolve this ultimately.” He got to his feet, opening Ballantyne’s door for Penny to leave first. Much as he’d like to leave a parting shot along the lines of ‘leading by example’ or them ‘all having something to learn’, he would go with his second thought, and say nothing at all. Ballantyne’s Division was just the disobedient teenager that had once been his Division’s child. They’d learn from their own mistakes, and he’d remember it next time Ballantyne decided to give Being Division some advice or request assistance.

“Ah, Tristan,” he spotted the vampire outside as Penny left ahead of him, “how can I help?”