Tragedy had a funny effect on those not involved: either they became all pushy over the mourning, acting as if he or she were a porcelain doll that could break and crack into a thousand fragile pieces thanks to only the smallest breath of air, or they tried to step away, to avoid the affected, as if they were suddenly the carriers of some terrible disease. Tragedy either alienated others, or made you wish they would. Cooper wasn’t certain whether he preferred those who looked at him with a sense of wariness in their eyes, or those that fawned over him and his every need. It was annoying, and it made him feel claustrophobic. After only a little while, the chaos of a dozen faces pounding him with care became a dizzy maze –and shortly after that, it almost became easy to forget why they were all bothering. It was ironic, really: they were all worried he might do something stupid because of what had happened, but all their attention created a blur that pushed everything else out. Yet the truth was still there: in the eyes of those few friends, in the shock and outright horror on the twin’s faces, and most importantly it was present due to that one, pivotal missing person. The truth scratched at his brain with long, dirty fingernails, nagging until he remembered, until he was overcome by grief all over again.

Bella was dead.

Whenever the cloud of confusion disappeared, the Auror was confronted by the memories of those final, cataclysmic moments: how Aidan had revealed a truth long hidden, how he had split his wife open. And blood. Crimson and thick, it was the most prominent part of his memories. Renwick’s face had been brutally gleeful. And Cooper had screamed, an animal sound, heartbreaking, tearing through his entire being, as his knees had became weak and he’d stumbled to the ground. On his hands and knees, he’d crawled to his wife. He’d held her his arms. But she had already been gone, and Renwick had already escaped. And every shred of evidence against the man had been gone from the Ministry the following day –the implications of which, the Auror was unable to even comprehend yet.

Now, a week later, he had decided it was time to return to work. Mother had been against the idea, as had been just about every one of those cloudy faces that had been fawning over him twenty four hours a day, but Cooper knew better: laying in a catatonic sense of denial would not help him. Vengeance would: his one and only goal in life now was to avenge his wife’s death. People expected him to be a mess of denial or grief –but the Auror had skipped the stages, and was focused on anger instead. Though there was something missing, and his emotions were in such a fickle state that anything from a certain scent to the word ‘love’ could bring him to tears, Cooper had become experienced throughout his life in focusing on what he must and ignoring what would only hurt him.

Waking up early had been a welcome return to routine, and already the Auror had began to feel somewhat more comfortable. By the time he’d showered, drank a mug of coffee and changed into a pair of simple black robes, he was beginning to feel strangely calm. Perhaps it was shock, but Cooper was certain he was living in a bubble –one that could be easily pinched, but which he rather have around him. Protecting him. Standing before the mirror in the foyer, the thirty year old dragged diligent fingers through his damp, brown hair, took a sip of his second mug of coffee –already in a thermal cup-, and decided to ignore the memories that were almost present in his green eyes. Not even paying attention to the way his breath had almost hitched at the upturned frame on the small table below the mirror –somebody had came up with the brilliantly awful idea to turn over every picture of Bella in the house-, Cooper grabbed his car keys and was out of the house in just a matter of seconds.

The drive didn’t take long, and in what felt like no time what so ever, he was stepping into the Atrium. It was comforting to be here, in an environment that was familiar and unchanged –but for those few who seemed to recognize him, and either stepped away or gave him what he assumed was meant to be a friendly pat on the shoulder. Even the magpie that flew over his head was familiar –a mystery he’d never solved, for it flew into the Ministry every morning. But the question held a certain sense of well being, as if all was right in the general world, and if he escaped his home for long enough he could simply forget how his own, personal universe had been turned on its feet. Sipping his coffee, Cooper stepped into the lift and made his way to the Auror’s Headquarter.

He was certain there’d be a pile of paperwork on his desk, awaiting his attention, and he was looking forward to it. Hopefully there’d be news about Renwick –the bloke might have murdered his wife, but he’d made sure the Ministry believed otherwise. Cooper was determined to work this case through to the end –now, especially-, and if anyone had been privy to the true identity of Bella’s killer, he would have been removed. A conflict of interests, they would have claimed –yet the whole concept, one he’d seen at use many times and agreed with before, now seemed so silly. Who could possibly be better poised to making Renwick pay?

Before and Now. His life had been broken into two distinct parts.

The office was busy as he stepped into it, and for the first time in days a smile shivered onto Coop’s face as he stopped in the doorway and simply took the sight in: Aurors scurrying about, envelopes flying in the air, the cacophony of voices. It was all so familiar, and everything Cooper wanted to get back to. The smile was there only for a second, however, before his face returned to being set in what was not grief, yet not happiness either. Instead, it was an empty stare. The Auror stepped into the office, twisted around a chair-

-and bumped into a slender figure. “Oh, bollocks!” He exclaimed, as his mug of coffee popped open and spilt. All over the other person. A few drops hit his own hand, and he could feel how hot it was. “I’m so sorry,” Cooper managed to choke out the words, before suddenly finding himself turned into a blubbering mess. His emotions, apparently, really weren’t in check.

Adrianna was wishing that as a magpie she had more than enough strength to carry the paperwork she had to lug around to complete. It would certainly make things much faster, that was for certain. She already hastened her entrance to work every morning as a bird. At least she was glad that Level Two let her enter in her Animagus form; in China she hadn't been allowed, much to her dismay. She could still remember Shaozu barely supressing a snigger at her expense before she had chucked a book at him to make him shut up.

But the paperwork was five times her weight as a magpie, and as much as she would like to just transform here and now and proceed to pick up the bundle by the string that kept it together - her own habit, if anything she always had string about her person somewhere - she knew she would probably just plummet faster than a rock. And if there was something embarrassing for a bird, it was dropping like a stone with no good excuse.

So she put up with it. Besides, it was manual work. It left her brain free to think while her hands dealt with the rest.

Thus as her brain wandered off on the news she had heard today from other Aurors that she couldn't help overhear, her hands had the best interests of the paperwork in mind when she collided with someone. They immediately secured the paperwork and lifted the bundle up.

Which meant she had hot coffee split right across her midriff, marked by an "Oh, bollocks! I'm so sorry!"

She gasped in shock and pain, jerking away from the man who had walked into her. Then her sensibilities snapped into action and she very quickly shoved the paperwork down on a nearby empty desk and pulled out her wand to try and mend any damage.

She looked up at the man whose coffee had been in the cup moments ago, opening her mouth to ask if he was all right - and then froze in surprise as he burst into tears right there and then. Well yes it was spilt coffee, but surely there wasn't much of a reason to cry over spilt coffee. Or maybe there was, considering how many times she'd seen angry customers in coffee shops.

"I'm sorry, are you all right?" she asked, briefly forgetting the coffee on her blouse and her accent, slightly flustered in lieu of a man crying openly in front of her. "I'm fine, and um I can get you another coffee if you like? What's wrong?" As she spoke she waved her wand over her blouse; the coffee instantly dried but the stain remained. She'd have to deal with it when she got home later.

The fact that it was his first day back to work, and that he was currently sobbing like a five year old girl whose toy hippogriff had been broken, did not actually spell out his ability to do his job. Yet try as he might to control his whimpers, they simply came harder, until his face was a soaking mess, and a strange, strangled sound was coming from his mouth. The muscles in his throat tightened, but that only made his sobs sound even more odd –but at least they were lower, and the woman before him might be the only one to hear them. Hopefully. Even through his sudden, air-knocking out shock of grief, the Auror did not desire to make a scene. All he wanted was to be back at work, at his desk or in the field, doing what he did best. And that did not include calling attention to the fact that he was crying in the middle of the office. Much less when he was even sodding sure where the tears had come from.

After a few seconds, he managed to reign in his emotions, and calm down –and just like that, the tears were gone and the wrangled sobs had quieted. Although, he appeared to have been attacked by a case of hiccups. His face was still a mess, but at least he could talk straight again, as he nodded his head at the witch’s words. “Just dandy,” He hiccupped, rising a hand to brush the back of his palm across his eyes. The Auror proceeded to shake his hair, a fringe of brown hair falling over his eyebrows. And he hiccupped again. Sod. “I-I just…” But try as he might, the werewolf found it entirely possible to find a coherent explanation as to why he’d just been crying in the middle of the work place. “Why do you ask?” He decided acting stupid and pretending nothing had just happened was the best way to go. He’d pretend he hadn't indeed cried, and that the woman had simply imagined it. Yes, that was the right way to go. “Do I seem not okay?”

Hopefully, he’d soon learn to reign in his emotions and have a better control over them. This practice of putting up walls was, for some reason, inherently harder than it had been back in the day when he’d felt so horrible about being a werewolf. Perhaps this was due to the fact that the tragedy this time was so much worse –he saw a flash of blood, his wife’s dead eyes. But that wasn’t what he was supposed to be thinking about. Not now. At the moment, he was supposed to simply forget and act as if everything was quite normal, so he directed a smile at the woman –lips twisted back a tad bit too wide, eyes still somewhat glinting with the shine of crystal tears, and there was little doubt that he looked like a psychopath. But at least he was trying.

“Another coffee would be great, actually,” Though he fought to keep his words kind, there was an edge to them, and it all felt extremely fake. He simply hoped nobody would notice that, as he kept the all too large smile on his face and nodded towards the back room and the coffee. “Shall we?”

"Just dandy. I-I just…Why do you ask? Do I seem not okay?"

Adrianna raised an eyebrow. She'd seen better amateur actors than him. Shaozu was better at hiding sadness than him, which said something because the Chinese Auror had an explosive tendency with his emotions. She wasn't interested in starting an argument with him, not right here in the office - after that sudden outburst of tears, she felt that attracting attention would be unwise.

Unfortunately for Cooper - probably - Adrianna hated lying. So she answered him steadily, "No, you don't seem okay. Otherwise I wouldn't ask that question." Her voice was firm, with a slight warning in that she wouldn't change her mind and lie. The smile he gave her was ridiculously overdone; he was definitely not okay. She wasn't going to pretend.

She didn't think it her business to poke and pry into the reason for the outburst, and because he was clearly struggling to pretend as if nothing had just happened  - "Another coffee would be great, actually. Shall we?" wasn't exactly encouraging a conversation on the topic - so she just went with it. The smile's uncanny brightness unnerved her, but she returned an uneasy, tentative smile. "Sure. Let me just put this away."

Her desk was only a few steps away. She put the bundle of paperwork down on it and returned to where he was. Now that she took another chance to look at his face - since she had avoided looking at him out of decency - she only recognised him in a vague everyday sort of way. She didn't really know his name. There were still a few Aurors here she didn't know; she was taking her time to get to know them and maybe this was best.

He could feel the muscles at the corners of his lips twitching, tight and oddly uncomfortable from the effort of keeping the extremely exaggerated smile on his face. But, maybe if he looked fine, everybody would stop codling him. Of course, this witch simply didn’t seem to believe the act, but that simply meant he’d have to convince her that he was, indeed, okay. Just dandy. With an empty hole in his chest, tired to the point of exhaustion and with the extreme urge to cry –but fine. Really fine. Cooper pressed a clenched fist to his each of his eyes in turn, applying just enough pressure to stop the prickling sensation of tears. Sod it, fitting back at work was not turning out to be easy. Dropping both arms back to his side, the Auror nodded towards the woman. As she moved towards his desk, the werewolf turned his back on her and pushed his chair into his desk –taking the private moment to quickly inhale deeply a number of times, on the brink of hyperventilating.

The sound of footsteps behind him and the sudden presence of a body close by had the man looking up. He immediately plastered the entirely fake smile back on his face and once again felt that annoying sensation of tightness, as he jerked his head towards the coffee room. “Let’s get that coffee, then,” Folding his hands into the pockets of his robes, Cooper let his long strides carry him towards the machine, were he quickly went about fixing a pot. The muggle way. Preparing two mugs, the Auror turned back against the counter, leaning a hand against the marble on either side and leaning against it. The smile was still there.

“So, what’s your name?” He questioned. He let the smile fall and his face turn entirely business like –he didn’t want it to seem like he was flirting. Because he wasn’t. Just… no. Cooper shrugged, as the coffee machine hissed behind him. “I know I’ve seen you around the office, but we’ve never worked together, have we?”

The tight smile was unnerving her, but she gave him a genuine smile this time. Whatever it was worrying him, she wasn't going to ask. The tight smiles were very reminiscent of certain events in her life. She had to resist touching the scars on her face in a brief moment of flashback.

She followed him, where he made two mugs, much to her surprise. Adrianna had been brought up to be polite and modest, but she didn't feel like stopping him from making the coffee. Clearly he needed to keep his hands and mind busy. She let him, and besides if anything she'd learned to not say no to the occasional kind gesture of free coffee. A bit more frequently and she'd wonder if the maker either wanted to give her caffeine poisoning or have a date with her.

"So, what’s your name?" She watched the smile vanish as she folded her arms across her chest and leaned her shoulder against the wall. "I know I’ve seen you around the office, but we’ve never worked together, have we?"

"Adrianna," she said, her accent following the more sing-song tone of the country she'd been in for over a decade. "Adrianna Xin, actually, but just calling me Adrianna will do. I get tetchy when people call me by my last name.

"I don't know your name either, so if we did work together we both must have terrible memories." She smiled, the scar across her lips curving with her mouth. "Or have had a few bangs to the head. No, I actually transferred from China in spring last year after doing nineteen years as a British Auror Correspondent, and then spent the last few months being a penpusher in this office. If you're lucky you would have gotten a few glimpses of my face before this. Most people only see the back of my head." She laughed.

"And you," she had to resist calling him sir, "how about your name? I've seen you around before, but I don't usually pay attention to my surroundings when bent over paperwork. I'd kill for eyes in the back of my head, but on second thoughts that would make sleeping a bit difficult, I think. I've got better ways of watching people anyway."

Cooper could feel his eyes prickling, but at the very least he felt certain that, for the moment, his emotions were in check. Of course, he was also quite sure that they would go bonkers all over again at even the smallest of provocations, but there was nothing he could do to avoid it. The Auror was going through mourning, and if there was one thing he’d learnt from watching others go through the same process it was that there was never knowing how a person would react while suffering it. Tapping his fingers against the marble he was leaning against it, for example, Cooper felt suddenly quite jolly. Instead of letting his face let the woman catch on to the fact, however, he let his business look remain, as she answered his question and he jerked his head in a quick nod to note he’d heard her. “Adrianna it shall be, then,” he confirmed, as she spoke again and the scar on her face twisted together with her lips.

Although making sure not to stare, Cooper was vastly aware of the blemish and what it was a prime example of: everyone had a story, and everyone sported trophies –appreciated or not- of what they’d been through. His natural curiosity was part of the reason he’d joined the Aurors, besides his desire to help right his wrongs, but although he was tempted to question the tale behind the mark on Adrianna’s face he was enough in control of his mind –if only momentarily- to realize how rude such an inquiry would be. Bouncing just slightly off the counter, Cooper folded his arms over his chest as he shrugged nonchalantly. “I like to think my memory isn’t too bad,” Again he tried to smile, but a week was apparently too short of a time to control all his demons, and it looked more like a grimace. “Cooper Evans,” Aidan Renwick would had stuck out a hand, with his shoulders tight and his posture perfect, ready to make his next business acquaintance –which was what stopped the werewolf from doing the same now. Any similarities between himself and Aidan were unappreciated, and he would avoid them as far as he could.

With one last hiss, the coffee was ready, and Cooper turned his back on his fellow Auror for an instant he poured it into two mugs. “How do you take it?” He tossed his head over his shoulder to ask her, as his hands broke two envelopes of sugar into his own and he stirred. Then, he scooted her mug down the counter, suddenly deciding she could sodding well prepare her own. “There you go, and the sugar and stuff are back there,” He gestured with his chin, as he settled back against the counter and cradled the coffee to his chest. “So, what cases are you working?”

It did not occur to Adrianna to shake hands with him, but she rarely ever shook hands with anyone. The only man she'd ever actually shook hands with was Shaozu, and it was only to say goodbye. She was still getting used to the Western gesture, but she didn't think she would ever indulge in it as much as the others did here.

"How do you take it?" She would have replied, but he then slid her mug across the counter to her, with "There you go, and the sugar and stuff are back there." This did not go unnoticed, but she didn't comment - and besides, she liked her coffee in a manner that most people didn't, and only a few of her friends deigned to care about that detail.

"So, what cases are you working?"

Adrianna took another mug and poured milk into it until it was half-filled, and then dumped about three envelopes of sugar into it, taking her time. In a sense it was her little way of backtalking for the lack of courtesy on the sudden change in manners he had just shown her. She stirred it thoughtfully until there was no longer the crunch of sugar under the teaspoon, before pouring the sweetened milk into the coffee. People stared at this, she knew, but she was the only one who preferred condensed milk and no self-respecting British would use condensed milk in their coffee. Or drink coffee, actually, but it was a bad habit she had picked up from the Chinese Aurors anyway. She resolved to try and get herself off coffee from now onwards, and then felt a little guilty that she knew she would find it easier than swearing off alcohol.

"I'm not working on any case at the moment," she finally answered. "It's been paperwork for me. My last case was...a bit of a fiasco, I have to say, so I've been taking time off to recover from it. I'm looking forward to taking on a case this year, but I'm not sure which one. At least I'm assured it won't be as troublesome as my last one." She drank from her mug of now warm coffee, cooled by the milk. "I'm still taking my time to learn how you guys get things done here. How about you? What cases are you on? I don't see you much around the office, so I can only assume you're usually out in the field."

It was an instant before Xin answered his question –a second that allowed him to remember the fact that he’d poured coffee on her. Hot coffee. There was the slightest chance he was not her most favorite person in the world, yet here they were grabbing a brew together. It was odd, the way the Corps worked: despite personal differences and, at some times, even rivalries or anger, they all stuck together and made up a composed front. It was their biggest strength, even though it wasn’t put to them as an actual lesson in their training. Being an Auror was something like having a second family –although a dysfunctional one. And then, at the thought of family, Cooper felt himself tearing up again, cheeks becoming damp at the instant.

At the same instant, she was finished preparing her coffee, and turning back towards him with words on her lips. She provided a glance into her past –albeit a quick one-, only to then dig into his own. She was right, to a point, as Cooper tended to cover himself in cases: the point of being an Auror had been to help make the world a better place, and to correct as many wrongs as he was likely to commit if ever he escaped on a full moon; sitting behind a desk ninety percent of the time would hardly help in such goals. But lately, he’d been missing from the Department for an entirely different reason, and it seemed as if Adrianna Xin might be one of the few Aurors not aware of his lack of fortune. As he dragged a fist across his cheeks and blinked back the rest of his tears, Cooper swallowed the temptation to fill her in –it was actually comforting to have somebody not be aware of the tragedy. Instead, he made a different and impulsive statement.

“I have a case that needs extra hands,” That might be an understatement, but begging might not be the right way to go here. He’d have to be careful, as well: the evidence he’d handed in on Renwick had gone missing, which meant there was a chance the Corps had a mole –a very likely chance, at that. He knew nothing about this woman, so she was a suspect. Yet, then again, he found it hard to ever not trust anyone within the Department. “It’s a tough one, and I’ve been working on it for over a year –it’d be cool to finally sodding close it.” Pressing his mug into his chest, he cocked his head towards his desk. “Feel like getting briefed, Xin?”

Her left eye twitched at his calling her Xin. At least no one here called her pet names - and the gods help them if they did, because she would spare them no mercy at all - but she didn't dare correct him. She never argued with a man if she could help it. Still, if he was watching her hard enough he'd probably see the eye twitch. It was a tic she couldn't get rid of whenever someone called her by her last name and she didn't know why - she just never really liked being addressed that way.

While she was interested in the details of whatever this case was, she didn't show it. She'd heard somewhere on the Auror grapevine that she might be dealing with another case alongside another Auror, but she wasn't sure about that. Until someone finally gave her a definite answer on exactly what she was doing, she wasn't going to jump to making her decisions just yet. It was better to stand back and wait.

But she considered his question for a minute, at least, before shrugging. "Just an overview will do for now. I'm not sure if I can commit to a case at the moment, things are a bit indecisive." Which annoyed her a bit, but she was willing to wait it out. She took a sip from her mug. "I'd love to be out on the field soon enough, but with the way things are going, nothing's certain in the near future right now. Well, my near future, at least."

The porcelain was hot against his chest, but in such a way that was comforting rather than painful, a welcomed warmth to ward off the cold weather of the day. As Adrianna’s shoulders rose and fall in a shrug, Cooper couldn’t help but wonder if he’d made the right decision. If he were to really suspect a mole within the Corps, then this woman he’d just now officially met might be the only Auror he could find himself suspecting without feeling the guilty need to confess to his comrades that he wasn’t sure he could trust them all any more. After all, there was a chance –and a large one- that any of them were indirectly responsible for last Friday night, for the fact that the roots of his entire life had now been jerked out of damp earth and been stomped on just in the same way little boys enjoyed pulling wings off butterflies.

“The future is never certain,” He answered, and though he did his best to keep his tone cheery –which meant that his voice simply didn’t raise an octave-, his face did indeed become a slightly darker spectacle: his eyes narrowing the tiniest bit, his lips quirking in a mix of emotions that ranged from grief to anger, his jaw setting tightly. Aidan Renwick had made sure his future was noting like he’d imagined it, and Cooper was thus far handling this new version of his present quite terribly. With time, healing might come –but he would make even more certain of this by killing the man. Only with vengeance could the natural way regain some balance, and his own present return to some semblance of normal.

It took a second, but he managed to recover enough for his face to now settle between passive aggressiveness and complete calm, as he jerked his head once again in the direction of his cubicle. “But just a once over it is,” Which was quite a good idea, he reminded himself, once again wondering how he had ever thought that explaining this case to this almost complete stranger –Auror or not- was a good sodding idea. Cooper took off walking, a sip of coffee gliding down his throat. “What, if anything, do you know about Aidan Renwick, Xin?” He asked, glancing at her over his shoulder.

Adrianna nodded, still aware that she had a large stain on her front. Well, she'd find time to go through the fireplace during lunch and change. It wouldn't be like her to go and change now; it was hardly a priority compared to the paperwork she had been assigned to do.

"Aidan Renwick?" She frowned as she tried to recall such a name. Had she seen it in the papers? Reports? Wanted posters? A minute or two of rifling around in her memories told her that she'd seen the name, but there were no details attached. She didn't remember when and where she'd seen it, either.

"I don't think so," she said, still frowning, her eyes gazing at the floor. "I've seen the name, I think, but details? I don't remember anything associated with the name." She brought her eyes up to meet his, the disconcerted frown still on her face. "Is he someone that we should know about? I might have learned something, but then again with all my recent drinking I guess I learned about his name and then proceeded to drown everything in alcohol until I forgot." It really was starting to become a bad habit, but she couldn't stop it. It was her only way of forgetting her nightmares and memories, and it was unhealthy and destroying her in a way.

As she spoke Renwick’s name, a frown glanced over her face, as she obviously pondered on the matter at hand; as he reached his cubicle and turned to lean against his chest, once again rolling his mug against his chest, Cooper found himself closely observing her: as far as he could tell, her reaction was an honest one, and the name hadn’t immediately rang a bell; it didn’t seem as if she were lying, or acting, which might have given him a reason to trust her –were it not for the fact that he was aware that most aurors could lie perfectly. It was a thing that came with the job. Her following admittance that she was quite an alcohol lover could have either swayed him towards her side as a fellow drinker, or made him trust her even less: words came easily when one was enebriated.

With slightly scrunched up eyebrows, Cooper moved to sit in his chair, twisting it around to glance up at her before nodding towards the one on the other side of his desk. “Sit if you want,” He muttered, before leaning forward with his wrists knocking together on the wooden surface, tongue caught between his teeth as he pondered just how much to share. With a sigh, he spoke, nudging at his mug of coffee which now sat on his desk. “Aidan Renwick is a businessman: he owns a company that deals with International Trade in the magical world, and he tends to like financing projects,” This was the easy part, the part that was public knowledge. “Hell, he’s even been a part of financing certain Ministry assets in the past –though I haven’t been able to find out what exactly they entailed.”

Spreading his arms into a gesture of complacence, shoulders rising and falling in a shrug, Cooper sat back into his chair, eyes on her. “Trouble is, like most businessmen, Renwick is as dirty as a hippogriff   that’s taken a bath in a pile of dung,” Coop reached for his coffee and took a sip. “Now, if I keep talking, I’ll need you to promise complete confidence. Most of this is not common knowledge.”

Adrianna sat down. Invitations to sit were always welcome, but again she wasn't inclined to go against the word of a man. It was just solidly ingrained into her. She couldn't help it. But she did angle the chair so that she was at least facing him.

She listened to him, still frowning slightly. After her experiences in China she treated every case and suspect as suspicious. From the moment Cooper mentioned about financing projects she had a bad feeling of where this was going. She'd lost count of the number of people who'd started out as financial investors with an interest in numerous projects and ended up as crooks, big and small, in various scenes. Mostly gangster-type crimes.

Which was why her response to his description of Renwick was a small nod that clearly meant Yep, I know what you mean. When he spoke of confidence, she looked at him and nodded.

"Your information's safe with me," she said. "I've dealt with cases that needed complete confidence before. Trust me on this. Especially when you're dealing with an office openly known for corruption within its ranks." Oh yes. Ohhh yes. The stories she had about the Chinese Auror Corps before Shaozu took up his post.

The woman nodded with the full appearance of a woman who understood what she was being told perfectly, yet her words about being a person to confide in –and her mention of the corruption within their ranks-, somehow didn’t quite calm Cooper’s edginess. However, he decided there was one portion of Aidan Renwick’s story that he could tell without putting himself in danger of revealing to the mole what he knew, and still gauge her reaction enough to make a better guess at whether she was lying or not. It was personal, and it was a hard story to tell, but he’d simply have to deal with that.

Placing the mug back on the desk, Coop curled his fingers around it, enjoying the pleasant warmth; his eyes were on the cup for an instant, before glancing up at Adrianna, eyes narrowed and lips tight. “I’ll start by telling you a story, then,” He kept his voice as cold and unemotional as he could, although it hitched at times like an old record being played, as memories flooded back –his twin brother, and Bella. “Close to 20 years ago, a pair of twins were playing in the forest that lay on the grounds of their house. It was winter, it was cold, and before long the two got lost; that wasn’t the worst, however: a werewolf lay in rest within the trees, a bloke who transformed as the full moon took over the sky; one of the boys was killed, and the other cursed forever,” Cooper pushed his chair back, eyes firmly on the woman.

“I’ve recently learnt that this werewolf was none other than Aidan Renwick –who is, on top of all his other crimes, an unregistered lycanthrope,” Cooper stood, heart pounding: it wasn’t as if this were some huge secret within the Corps, but there were some not yet aware of who he was, and he was about to spill his guts to one such coworker. “The murder of Gaspar Evans I was only one of the many evil deeds Renwick is guilty of,” Letting his fingers latch around the throat of his robes, Cooper checked her face to see if recognition at his brother’s name rang in her eyes. “Gaspar Evans, as in my twin,” Pulling the fabric down, the Auror turned to the left and let the scar on his right shoulder become exposed to her eyes.