Aisling had made certain to arrive a little early for lunch, early enough to get herself situated with a warm cup and a comfortable seat at the back of the cafe. She sighed, feeling tempted to go sit out at one of the tables in Diagon Alley itself. But that would just be inviting rumors, and her slowly expanding waistline was fodder enough for that. 

More pleasant to sit here, somewhat away from prying eyes.

She pulled a small leather-bound notebook from her pocket, skimming over the notes already there. Sophia's letters[1] on the situation with Lucas Trumble were tucked in among the pages. The case worker seemed an ideal sort to speak to about just what might be of aid during this situation.

And while Aisling was truly concerned about the well-being of her daughter's friend, she had a broader interest as well. While she was hesitant to appear too political, werewolves had been rather in the news recently. It hardly hurt to know more. Let alone the fact that contact with, and learning from, the up and coming members of the Ministry was a good in and of itself.

She pulled out a quill, and started to scribble a few thoughts down in the notebook. Perhaps one of these days she would get back to writing, but for now she could just record a few thoughts while she waited.

1.	Papa Don't Preach

It was one of those days.

No, not one of those days – the other kind, the good kind. There had been no emergencies, no surprise meetings, no mistakes brought to light, no bad news, no bawling clients – nothing! She'd only had two clients scheduled for the morning and both of them had come bearing pleasant news. She'd spent the rest of the morning popping into other offices to check up on paperwork and stealing from people's candy dishes. Nobody had looked especially unhappy to see her, and she hadn't run into anyone she personally didn't want to see. Back on four there had been kittens – one of the many  perks of working on the DRCMC – so she'd spent the final moments before lunch nuzzling a mewling furball while talking a coworker through procedure for putting through a less common set of paperwork. Before she knew it it was lunchtime and she was on the verge of running late for an appointment she'd nearly forgotten about. When she headed out the door she noticed she was feeling unusually light and airy. Not bad for a Tuesday!

Brynn arrived on the scene feeling happy and refreshed, and she didn't even mind that she was using her lunch for work-related purposes. She wasn't feeling that all too common desire to get as far away from her work as possible while she had the chance. It was the good days that made the bad ones worthwhile, and as long as she had the energy then she didn't mind doing more than required. Beneath her winter cloak she was dressed in a neat little robe ensemble that had been purchased straight from the Gladrags mail order catalog, where it had been modeled by an exuberant and professional looking witch who'd had no trouble pulling it off. Brynn had never felt quite as confident in the amaranth pink robes as the model had looked, but they made her happy, and as she walked through the cafe and weaved her way toward the back, she could almost imagine that she was more like the catalog model and less like a bright pink blimp with frizzy hair.

“Mrs. Knight?” she spoke as she approached the table, smiling pleasantly at her company for the hour. “It's lovely to see you. Alright?” Brynn greeted her  warmly, undoing the ties on her cloak. “I hope I'm not late. I nearly lost track of the time for a moment there, but I finally made it.” The ever dependable Brynn set her cloak on the back of her chair, deposited her bag at her feet, and slid into the chair opposite Aisling's. “How is your day going?”

Aisling looked up at the younger witch with a smile, and flipped her notebook closed before setting it on the table before her. "Ms. Ellis. It's good to see you. Thank you for coming."

Brynn Ellis looked all exuberant in pink, at least one of them possessed some energy. "And you're perfectly on time, I was just a bit early." Aisling motioned for her to sit down, then pushed her notebook and quill to the side. "Today has been busy for me, but it's gone well enough. Clean-up, mostly."

Her nerves were still a bit raw from Sunday, something perhaps visible in the darker shadows beneath her eyes that makeup couldn't quite hide, and an occasional subtle glance at the door. "Would you like to order before we start? The sandwiches here are quite good, as are the desserts." There were small menus set next to the condiments on the table, though they'd have to return to the counter to order.

“Clean up,” Brynn grinned, echoing Aisling's words with a faint chuckle, “It's funny when you think about it. If there was nothing to clean up, most of us wouldn't have jobs.” It was a sad but true fact that Brynn ruminated on as she settled her cloak on the back of the chair and slid in, crossing one leg over the other underneath the table. There were certainly worse fates than looking after people and fixing mistakes, Brynn knew, and she was well aware that even on the days when all she wanted to do was curl up and cry forever, the fact that her pain was just a reflection of the far more tangible pain of others made her one of the lucky ones.

”Would you like to order before we start? The sandwiches here are quite good, as are the desserts.”

“Absolutely. I'll just take a look,” she said as she took up the menu card and glanced over the offerings. “Everything looks very nice,” she remarked, trying to decide which of the lunch options she fancied for herself. As a food loving girl, the hardest part of any lunch date was deciding what she wanted to eat. Anything with cheese seemed like a sure bet, so she based her choice on her dairy hankering. It was only a quick walk up to the counter where the two witches were able to put in their orders and return to the table to wait for them to be prepared and served.

“So, I'm told you have some questions for me,” Brynn spoke, breaking the ice a little as she graced the older witch with an open smile. She wasn't entirely clear on the exact purpose of this quaint meeting, but she was thrilled with being singled out as an authority. If the wife of the Chief Warlock was requesting a lunch meeting with her then she had to be doing something right!

Aisling had ordered some salad and a large sandwich for herself, a bit more food than might be expected from an onlooker, as either could have served as a small lunch in and of itself. And the healers wanted her eating even more. Though that may have had to do with her occasional tendency to forget meals.

"Mostly I'd just like to hear about your work. With recent events it does seem most important, and I do try to stay informed." Her smile was open and curious, and she folded her hands in her lap. "There were a few more specific questions, but it seems best to save those until I'm slightly more familiar with the general nature of what you do."

There was a quick flicker with her eyes as her gaze turned to the notebook for the moment, then back to Brynn. "I have done a bit of research, but it's never the same as hearing about personal experience. And from what I've heard you're very involved within your wing."

“Yes. Yes, of course, absolutely,” Brynn nodded, trying to get her thoughts together in order to provide a passable explanation. Trying to explain exactly what she did was actually a little bit difficult, because the average person never needed to deal with a social worker, let alone a social worker who specialized in individuals with lycanthropy and their families. That was a good thing, of course, but it did make her job more challenging to explain to those privileged enough to never have to deal with all of the red tape involved in navigating life as a werewolf. She smiled a wry smile. “It might be easier to list the things I don't do, but I'll try my best,” she explained, sighing faintly as she prepared to try and justify her purpose.

“Essentially, I'm an advocate for infected individuals and their loved ones,” she began, knowing that such a statement was as vague as you could get, but it still felt like a solid start. “The system we have in place is very complicated, and expecting people who have just had their lives irreparably changed to navigate it on their own wouldn't be fair, so I suppose the best way to explain it would be to say that I make sure that the system is accessible. A lot of it has to do with paperwork, I'll admit. Even the registration process can be challenging, especially when you're frightened and in pain. It's a very emotional time. The department demands paperwork, but that's a lot to ask of a person who is vulnerable and confused. They're worried about whether their families will still accept them, and whether they'll still have a job and be able to stay in their homes. They're not concerned with whether they've initialed in all of the right places,” Brynn explained with a knowing nod. It was all a lot more complicated than people realized.

“Beyond that,” she added, “I just coordinate services. I do a bit of counseling, run a few groups now and then, and I make sure that everybody has access to the paperwork and the support they need to live life with as little fuss as possible.” That wasn't absolutely everything she did, but it covered most of it. In reality, Brynn just did everything she was asked to do and then a little more. She was pretty sure that her job description literally read 'everything' – or, more realistically 'everything nobody else wants to do.'

Aisling nodded softly, her expression thoughtful. "It is a good thing that they have your assistance, then. I would imagine that trying to simplify the process would be quite a mess as well." Between the politics and the more legitimate concerns, there were just so many complexities, so many points for alterations to get stuck upon.

"What sort of support do you offer, precisely? The safe houses and wolfsbane are the most obvious, but is there career assistance, family counseling, those sorts of aid?" There was the clank of dishes from the counter, and she turned her head to catch sight of a server with a pair of trays headed towards them before she looked back to Brynn. "I get the impression that you offer whatever you can informally, but is it something that's formalized?" A bit of warmth, of approval perhaps had crept into her tone.

Plates clattered against cups and bowls as the trays of food were set down before them, and Aisling gave their server a grateful smile. Food was just what she needed.

Brynn, too, looked pleased as the food arrived – she'd always equated food with happiness, and getting just what you wanted, just when you wanted it, was always a treat. Before she answered Aisling's question, she set to work preparing her plate, separating both halves of her sandwich. The cheese offered some resistance in its perfect, predictable way as she tugged it apart, and in that moment she was sure she'd made the right choice. These were two of the things she liked best in the world – good food, and company that didn't mind her going on and on about her job. Usually this only happened at the kitchen table at her parents house, where her family was unconditionally obliged to make her dinner and allow her to ramble away about whatever had her fired up.

“Every registered client is entitled to counseling services,” Brynn explained, looking up from her cheesy monstrosity to answer the witch's question, though she really did want to take a proper bite. “We absolutely meet with families whenever possible, especially when minors are involved, and we have a few support groups that meet regularly, depending on interest. Not all families want to be involved, though. It's all optional. The counseling is optional as well. Some individuals aren't even interested in any services at all, and it's not our job to force them,” she elaborated. Not everyone was good at accepting help, and not everyone needed it. She took a bite of her sandwich then, unable to wait, and had to restrain herself when it came to making sounds of ecstasy.

“As far as career services,” Brynn began, once she swallowed, “We don't offer many formally. I can only speak for myself, but I look at CV's if that's a concern that a client has, and I do as much networking as I can. Keeping these individuals in the work force is one of my own personal goals. I can't speak for all of the case workers on the floor, but it's certainly something I focus on in my own case work,” she shared. “We have workshops every now and then about how to dress for interviews and the like, but, frankly, I find them a bit condescending.”

"I would imagine that a sharper cut of robe only aids when it comes to those who might already be open to hiring you."  Aisling frowned faintly, then took a few bites of her salad as she thought. "And the cost of course." A particular concern for those without good work, or perhaps any work at all.

She turned to her sandwich, which she ate with small careful bites yet more quickly that could be considered truly proper. "That is all quite helpful, though, and enough, I think, for the more particular questions. My youngest, Sophia, she's close with one of the Trumble boys, and had asked if there was anything we could do to help."

There was the soft sound of cloth brushing against her hands as she made careful use of her napkin. "And I was told that you were handling some of that case. I do wish to help, but I would hate to make your work more difficult in my attempts to do so." Her expression had turned a bit more concerned, as well as her previous curiosity.

“Well, yes, but it's not only that,” Brynn sighed faintly as she thought about the issue of the job-hunting workshops. This had been something that she'd thought about before, but she'd never really vocalized those thoughts until now, and transfiguring her vague, wary musings into words and ideas that made sense even to those outside of the Lycanthropy community was not an instantaneous process. “I suppose it's just the assumption that our clients need that service in particular. A lot of them held jobs before their attacks, and the majority are intelligent, competent people. The reason they don't have jobs isn't because they can't dress for an interview, and that assumption is, well – it's humiliating for them. Work is closely tied to dignity, and by sending the message that they can't even dress themselves, we certainly aren't helping.”

It was an issue she saw all of the time, and it came up in the strangest places. As soon as people became werewolves they became other. Somehow people couldn't imagine that a werewolf could make intelligent choices, or hold a job, or do any number of things that human begins could do, just because of that one day per month when they weren't quite human. She didn't know how to fix that, but explaining the problem to someone with a lot more influence than she had may have been a start. It made her feel better, in any case. Brynn reached for her sandwich and enjoyed an enthusiastic bite as she internalized the words she used so that she might be able to access them later, or turn them over a little bit when she got back to her desk. She was attentive to Aisling as she went on however, sorting her stray thoughts away.

Brynn smiled at the mention of the Trumble family, recognition showing on her face instantly. Emeline had been her client even before the mess this past summer, and her fondness for the girl and her siblings didn't make it any easier to stomach their situation. Their family's story was exactly the reason that all of the false messages about werewolves were so harmful. One mother's prejudice had become the source of so much heartache, and if only she could have understood what she was doing, or had someone to help her make sense of her feelings and her privilege, things could be a lot different for the family. She was so very sad for them but, since things had worked out this way, she was at least glad that she could be a small part of their story. When there was a home visit to the Trumble residence on her schedule, it often meant for a good day at work.

“Well, I can confirm that I do work with the Trumbles, but there's only so much I can tell you about their case without permission from the family,” she explained regretfully. It was not that she wanted to turn someone away who wanted to help, but she valued her relationship with the family and her client in particular, and maintaining confidentiality was important. “I'm happy to do what I can, though. What sort of help did you have in mind?” she asked curiously. There were, after all, ways to discuss things without revealing confidential details.

Aisling nodded, her expression still attentive and curious. "Contracting lycanthropy doesn't strip one of their competence, after all. I can certainly understand why you'd be concerned about giving such impressions." She sipped at her water, then set the fogged glass back upon the table. "And just because matters are better now doesn't remove the need to improve our handling of them."

She absently pressed a hand to her neck, toying with the chain that held her simple pendant. "And no worries, I don't wish to pry into their private matters. I've sent Lucas a few packages so far, small things, sweets and such like I send to my own daughters."

It was better than her eating all the sweets, which tended to happen if they stayed at home too long. "That seemed unlikely to cause any trouble, but I'm not sure what else to do. Not certain what might be needed in such a situation."

“Lucas,” she repeated with a soft grin, picturing the young wizard and his twin. “He's a very sweet boy. Knowing boys, he wouldn't appreciate me saying so, but it's true. It's nice to hear he's making friends.” Hogwarts could be a rough place for a first year, let alone a first year who had so much going on at home. Brynn's own family had faced some trials back when she was a first year herself, and she could remember the ever-present panic, wondering what was going on with her family and wanting so desperately to be home with them. Having friends, both in and out of school, could only help. Brynn was so thrilled to hear that Lucas had a little support system, and it made her proud. It didn't matter that it didn't have much to do with her – this was her little family they were talking about, doing well, and that knowledge filled her up with sunshine. Good news could be rare in her line of work, and she had to celebrate every bit she could get.

“Without going into specifics,” she began, “It's easy to imagine that a family with so many children, two of which have some special needs, might be struggling a touch, especially on one income,” she explained, saying as much as she could without giving anything away. “There's no emergency, but I'm sure things get tight, and the youngest is still very small. My brother has two little girls and the older of the two seems to grow out of her shoes every other week.” Brynn didn't want to come right out and say that the Trumbles could probably benefit from a financial gift, because she had more tact than that, but she did her best to suggest as much. A little extra spending money could mean a lot to a family, but she'd wait for Mrs. Knight to draw the conclusion herself. 

"It's good to hear such about Lucas, him and Sophia are close enough to make Tarron worry that she's already developing an interest in boys." And girls, though that wasn't something Aisling wished to mention here. "You should have seen them at the Yule Ball, such a lovely sight."

It was a good memory, one that brought forth a smile even as she nodded to Brynn's less than subtle hint. "I'm certain I can think of something, I've been lucky enough to be able to do that much." Things had changed so much over the last years, and sometimes Aisling forgot just how lucky she could be.

Perhaps some sort of outing would be in order. That at least could be managed. "And I expect I'll be seeing much of Luthas over the summer, sure that there will be something that can be done there." Moonmoth was large enough for more, for feet on the floors and voices in the halls.

She looked down to the dishes in front of her to find them near empty; it was just a few moments of the clinking of silverware until all the food was gone. "It's good to know that you're looking out for them. The situation is difficult enough as it is."

“At eleven years old I'd be more worried if she wasn't showing an interest in boys,” Brynn responded with a smile, trying to think back to that first year at school where there were no parents anywhere and hormones abounded. Hand holding used to be risque. It had all felt very important and scary back then, and she could remember what a difference it made to her mood when a boy complimented her ponytail. These days she was lucky if she had enough time in the morning to wear a ponytail, and she was more likely to get shouted at by some disgrunted soul than complimented. Being eleven had come with its fair share of heartbreak and frustration, of course, but she was so far removed from those days that most of her memories were deceptively rosey colored. While she was certain that Lucas and Sophia's lives were crammed full of all kinds of drama that, at the moment, seemed very pressing and hard to deal with, hearing about their potential fledgling romance made her giddy and she couldn't help but think of them more like a set of sweet little hummels on the mantle.

'It's good to know that you're looking out for them. The situation is difficult enough as it is.'

“Oh, absolutely,” Brynn agreed, and it was practically an understatement. “The family is local to me, and I'd never turn down an opportunity to pick up that baby,” she laughed sheepishly. Her biological clock was less like a neat little pocket watch and more like a ticking time bomb. Babies made her salivate. “I'll have to schedule a home visit before she gets too big for my lap. I'm such a sucker for the small ones.”

"She's twelve, actually. Which proves the point even more." Aisling shook her head, then stared down at her empty plate. "I still worry. And I do think she inherited my talent for that. Which I then worry about." Yes, good at worrying. She pushed the plate to the side.

The mention of babies made her feel a bit wistful,  and that soft smile slipped onto her face again. "Young children are a great deal of work. I'm sure they appreciate that. And they grow up far too fast." Now her voice had turned more sad than anything at all. "Before you know it even the babies are off to school already."

She wrung her hands together in her lap, out of sight, until they ached. "And you've been most helpful to me as well. I only hope that I can do the same for them."