9pm on the 23rd of April 2010
The Leaky Cauldron

The windows were open at the famous pub.  A sweet, wet spring breeze flowed through the usually stuffy, smoky pub.  Two witches in tall boots were in repose at a table for two.  One with curly black hair, the shorter one with brown.  They had old tired eyes, and hands well-worked. 

The first was Zora Roh, and Auror of 12 years and a mother of a teenager.  The other was Tamis Raynor, likely the most decorated Auror since MacDonell.  They'd never been friends, really, but there was strength in being comrades in arms.  There was comfort to sit in near silence with a witch who knew your mind, knew the struggle, knew the work. 

Raynor had just been made Head of the Department, officially this time.  And Roh had just come back from Devon.[1] Thes were coming more and more frequently.  The public had become more aware and casualties were being deftly (barely) avoided more often, but each incident had become a multi-departmental mini disaster.  No one knew quiet what to do.

Zora set down her empty glass.

"Want another one?"

1.	Dementor attack in Devon that  morning.