Primrose had almost thought Level 4 would be kept out of the explosion in Diagon Alley.  After all, it wasn’t a primary theory that goblins were behind the destruction of the Leaky Cauldron.  It was much more pointed than that.  So, when it was suspected that things were going a different way direction, Prim had turned her attention back to the monthly housing issue… for a short time anyway. 

As it turned out, one of the victims amongst the rubble was one Ruby: no surname available.  The young woman was, according to the report to the office, an unregistered werewolf and quite… feral, if that was a word one could use to describe them.  Prim did not differentiate in her own mind, really.  It didn’t matter. 

Going into the hospital though, Primrose was poised to ask all kinds of questions: What was she doing there? Who was she?  Why wasn’t she registered?  And then, of course, to get the registration.  If Prim could just convince them all that being under the protection of the Ministry was only for their own good… maybe others would start to agree with her.  Getting this registration was, after all, going to be a win for her. 

With the paperwork neatly folded in her clutch, Primrose strode across the floors as if she owned the place (she felt as though she owned most places) and because of her… familiarity with the location she didn’t need much directing until she got to the actual ward.  It’s own personal level of hell, she surmised based on the inefficiency of the mediwitches and their uncooperative behavior.  She had owled earlier on Ministry letterhead for the occasion.  Refusal to admit – please.

Prim knocked briskly on the door, not expecting much – she’d read the files, the injuries.  It was fairly standard and much less graphic than what someone who routinely worked with and around werewolves would expect.  “Are you awake?” she asked, poking her head in, “Sorry to disturb,” not really, “but the matter is rather important.”   

---

Quote taken from Harry S. Truman "The atom bomb was no 'great decision.' It was merely another powerful weapon in the arsenal of righteousness."

The Wizarding World had acted as a vacation spot for Ruby for so long that the change of scenery to something more serious was jarring. What occurred at the Leaky Cauldron was not something that was within Ruby’s scope of understanding, and had resulted in her hellish crankiness, to put it lightly. She growled and gnashed at the healers, all of whom had become appropriately weary of the possible unregistered werewolf in the bed.

She tore off most of the clothing they gave her throughout the day, but as it was early Ruby still sported the grey scrubs and socks that St Mungo’s had provided her with. By the end of the day all that would remain were the socks, which Ruby found to be mysteriously comfortable. Magic must have been used to sustain their coziness.

Without much warning a woman appeared in her room, looking like the dolls Ruby had seen in the abandoned houses she frequented. The rest of the Healing staff must not have warned her about Ruby’s edge, because Ruby’s response to this woman was to let a low grumbling sound emit from the back of her throat - a warning.

 Being met with a low, grumbling growl actually didn’t register as what it really was with Primrose at all.  She wondered if the piping was broken or something in the room had shorted, like the wireless… Perhaps there was a rather nasty bug inside?  It wouldn’t surprise her – hospitals were secretly very dirty.  At least she thought so.  Glancing around, Prim also realized the lights were off.  Was the werewolf snoring? 

That was quite the sound if it was a snore!  Perhaps not everyone could be ladylike.  Flicking her wand, she lit the lamps in the room and a soft, yellow glow grew into bright, sanitized white lights.  “Again, sorry to disturb you,” she began to say before she turned her eyes and noticed that the very blonde girl with shaggy hair and a number of… grotesque bandages was staring at her – and looked like she was clenching her jaw…

Was she?  She must have… it was growling!  Immediately sneering, Prim was not at all pleased with this turn of events.  “So sorry to interrupt. Did I wake you?” she asked, hoping to diffuse the anger, when really she didn’t want to take a single step closer.  She could have been one of those direwolves for all Prim knew.  She’d already had her close run in.  Not today. 

Something that she had come to discover in this place was that her growls were not as intimidating as they were in the forest. Instead of the looks of fear and reluctance she was accustomed to, she instead receieved ones of concern and perturbation. Glaring at the woman as she crossed the room, Ruby kept her face looking tough. She wouldn’t be intimidated by the lack of terror, no.

“Did I wake you?”

Ruby raised an eyebrow at this, continuing to scowl at the blonde with hateful eyes. She was analyzing what exactly this woman wanted. There had been people who came in for blood, which Ruby violently resisted. They wanted to bandage her legs and other wounds, but Ruby continuously undid their work. They were finding her to be a frustrating patient, unpredictable and dangerous. Ruby did not care to make their jobs easier. “What do you want?” she huffed finally.

So much for manners, Primrose thought.  Perhaps if she had answered her the first time, she wouldn’t have felt the need to repeat herself and after all that abysmal growling…  Primrose was just generally displeased with this whole thing.  What she had thought would be a win was quickly turning into a disappointment.  “Manners,” Primrose reminded her, with a voice that was not altogether kind – after all, she wasn’t really into the whole werewolf thing anyway. 

They freaked her out.  This one especially.  She was so… pale.  So, human but without some of the qualities that made one exactly human.  It was unsettling.  Primrose, however, in the face of something that had her uncomfortable, straightened her back and continued to stand just as far away.  “I’m from the Ministry,” Primrose stated carefully, worried she might take anything close to her and hurl it.  She was obviously not socialized properly.  Anything was possible. 

“I’ve come to ask a few questions about the explosion.”  It was benign, really, and quite possible.  And sure, she would ask about it, so really, it wasn’t a lie at all.  She regarded the woman carefully, wondering if she would get closer or have to conduct the entire interview from the doorway. 

“Manners,” the flaxen woman said sharply. Having grown up in the middle of the woods and having been essentially raised by wolves, having  manners was not on the top of Ruby’s list of priorities. She barely knew what it meant, having spent so little time around Wizards. It wasn’t as if the crowds she ran with would ever chastise her for her behavior. They’d accepted her wolf-like qualities, clearly they didn’t care about decorum. So Ruby rolled her eyes in response to this request, willing herself to stay anchored in the bed.

When the lady divulged that she was from the Ministry, Ruby’s throat felt like it closed shut. Her face remained calm and cool, the stoic look ever important to the Mandara. Her eyes told all, though, those damned windows to the soul. The sudden nerves came from Ruby’s fear of being caught -- she knew that her society was not one connected with the rest of the world. She was unregistered, unclaimed by any bureaucratic memorabilia. Ruby remained silent. This woman had nothing on her.

“I’ve come to ask a few questions about the explosion.”

Ruby relaxed just a little. “Wasn’t me,” she responded quickly. Her main goal now was to get this woman to leave with as little information as possible. Ruby gestured to her broken leg and bandaged up body, implying that she would never be so foolish as to hurt herself in a terrorist attack.

Perhaps it was her warning about manners, but something in the woman in the bed changed instantly.  Maybe she was slightly less horrifying than she originally surmised her to be.  Perhaps a little respect was woven into her and Primrose was glad for it.  After all, that would make her job a little bit easier.  Even if the interviewed person was… less eloquent than she would have liked.

“I should hope it wasn’t you,” answered Prim with a sarcastic little sniff.  It’d have been a rather poorly planned event were the mastermind to potentially incinerate with the aftermath.  So, she didn’t think she’d be contending with that.  Aurors could deal with that piece, though she supposed she hadn’t fully identified herself at the beginning so this scraggly slip of a thing couldn’t know better.

She took an extra moment to dig inside of her clutch and pull out the forms she needed, all packed neatly inside of a form.  “I’m interested in what you were doing there that evening, were you with anyone else?” she licked her lip before the small untruths slipped out, smooth as silk.  “There are several unidentified victims – if you were with anyone… it could be extremely valuable information.”  It might also help identify who 'Ruby' was.

So the lady wasn’t suspecting her for the attack. Ruby didn’t understand why she was here. Even if this bitch was trying to investigate, Ruby had nothing to offer. She’d been blown off her seat and buried beneath the bar, then forced to this prison. They weren’t forcing her to stay - or at least that’s what they claimed - but they definitely didn’t want her to leave. And they were obsessed with gathering information.

“I’m interested in what you were doing there that evening, were you with anyone else?.... There are several unidentified victims – if you were with anyone… it could be extremely valuable information.”

Many thoughts were filling Ruby’s mind, and she didn’t say anything for a good long while. She wanted to say the right things to make this woman leave her alone. “I was just in for a drink, alone.” Ruby stressed the last word, though admittedly she had known some of the people there. That rickety place was a good one, it was a shame it had blown up.

Ruby’s eyes flickered down to the papers that had just been exhumed from the lady’s bag. Papers put Ruby on edge; nothing good had ever come from things being written down about her. Ruby wasn’t a strong reader and therefore could not read the words upside down, nor make any guess at what department this lady hailed from.

 This was going to be harder than Primrose thought.  Answers were not easy to come by and the woman seemed to be on edge about everything.  Honestly, if she had nothing to hide she wouldn’t be so cagey.  It only strengthened Prim’s resolve to suss out who she was and what she was doing in that bar.  Also why she had not registered and where she was living. 

“Did you interact with anyone while there?” Primrose asked off-handedly as her eyes quickly cruised over the papers she had.  Her short answer was consistent with what they’d already gathered at least.  Either she wasn’t lying or was very good at keeping a story straight. 

Glancing upward again, Prim clipped the folder shut with a snap and cleared her throat.  “Did you happen to lose your wand in the explosion?” she asked.  If they had the wand, they could most likely place the identity.  If it had been taken then it could potentially be a clue as to who actually did the explosions (you’re welcome, DoMLE).  Either way, information would work for them. 

They needed the wand to register her anyway. 

Ruby was so on guard that her shoulders were hunched and her muscles tensed, as if she was prepared for a fight. She did her best to hide this, not because it was socially unacceptable to tackle a Ministry worker, but because she knew that she was weakened by her injuries. Instead she was going to have to rely on her wit, which wasn’t necessarily her strong suit. But she had gotten by on her own sense and instinct thus far. Ruby’s eyes remained focused on the blonde.

“Did you interact with anyone while you were there?”

“Just the barman,” Ruby said concisely. She didn't even know if this was true -- she hardly remembered things like that. She never was much of a talker; it wasn’t really in her nature. Wolves don’t generally chitchat. The Wizarding World wasn’t like the Alliance of the Mandara, though -- they communicated through words, papers and letters. And so many owls. Finding lunch was never trouble if she happened to be crossing by the post office.

“Did you happen to lose your wand during the explosion?”

Oh yes -- the Wizards used wands. Ruby did not change her expression although her eyes changed for just a moment. Never having been trained formally to use magic, Ruby did not have a wand. She had alternative ways of using bits of magic, but if given a wand she was more likely to play fetch with it than cast a spell.

“Don’t use one,” Ruby said gruffly, after a pause. She locked eyes with the woman again, daring her to challenge the story.

Prim frowned.  This whole thing was not going as planned.  Or as expected.  Primrose was not the sort to not get answers.  She also didn’t suspect this werewolf would think much about giving her the answers she wanted.  Why would someone who had virtually no protection be so unwilling to open up about a situation that could only help them?  Prim just couldn’t understand. 

Letting out a slow breath from her turned up nose, Prim collected herself.  “I see,” she said flatly to the comment about the bartender.  It would be virtually impossible to check and to go around and ask every single injured patient if they spoke with an eerily bleached and emaciated witch would take quite some time. 

She could do it later.  Right now, she would just go with it. 

The comment after, however, she could not go with.  Prim’s hands stilled and she slowly raised her eyes from the parchment to the girl on the bed. The girl’s eyes flashed upward too and Prim unwittingly took a step back.  “No wand?” she repeated and jotted it down. 

Perhaps she shouldn’t have said it, but after she reread it to herself, she offhandedly commented, “I’ve never heard of a squib werewolf,” more to herself than the girl and returned her gaze to her, as if the girl wouldn’t question her immediately and snap-formed judgment.  “Were your family members alerted you’ve been taken to the hospital?” Prim added, in the same nonchalant air as her breezy comments.  It was just another potential way of getting information on this young woman. 

After all, there were probably clues in the information… She could puzzle it out. 

Ruby did not like where this conversation was headed. This woman, she clearly wanted something out of her. Ruby didn’t know what, but her instinct was to give as little information as possible. At the moment she had the upper hand, for whatever reason -- she held the information the blonde desired. Ruby didn’t want to find herself in more trouble than she needed to be. Words could be powerful that way.

The shifting hands of the shifty lady stopped what they were doing after Ruby revealed that she didn’t use a wand. Ruby was not completely familiar with the term ‘squib,’ but she knew that she wasn’t one (probably). She would tell as little truth as possible, and no lies. It was easier to keep your story straight that way. Avoid answers if necessary.

As for Primrose’s comment that she was a werewolf -- well that threw Ruby for a loop. Granted, she knew that she wasn’t exactly secretive about her wolf side. But set up here in this pristine, hygienic hospital made her feel so far from ‘wolf.’ Ruby didn’t know how to answer, so she just didn’t. “I am not a squib.” she commented flatly. She still wasn’t lying.

Primrose could, perhaps be sympathetic to the idea that being a squib was infinitely worse than being a werewolf.  At least werewolves had some relative advantages.  So, her declaration that she was not one was one that Prim could empathize with, but also just added more questions.  A werewolf who was not a squib that did not have a wand – or use one. 

“Muggleborn then?” she said aloud as she jotted it down on the parchment.  After all, that was the only way she could imagine someone giving up their wand.  They’d have to just not be used to it.  Checking Hogwarts records for something like this was going to take quite some time.  “What house?” she asked, knowing that would narrow the search.

She could get an age, look for the year and pull out as many names as she could… it was genius!  And Primrose assumed everyone knew what she was referencing.  After all, a non-squib wouldn’t be denied a magical education and as far as Prim was aware the education of werewolves was not so much a problem for some headmasters… Even so, if there was a trail to follow, she was going to find it.  Even if she didn’t  finish her education, her name would be there somewhere-  there would have to be something. 

“Muggleborn then?”

Here was another word that Ruby didn’t fully recognize. It took her a moment to remember that was the word that wizards used to describe non-wizards. She assumed that this would be pretty similar to her own upbringing, without magic. “Sort of,” she said defiantly, with a blaze shrug to top it off. Ruby didn’t have to tell this woman anything she didn’t want to. This woman had a lot of papers which Ruby had come to find meant she was probably important -- but the lady was tiny, and even with all her injuries Ruby was stronger than her.

“What house?”

This Ruby knew had something to do with the wizard school. She’d received her letter, as did her sister Mallory. Nearly every child in the Alliance of the Mandara had such a letter, but none of them had ever attended. They were not about the magic life. “I didn’t go to Hogwarts,” Ruby said flatly. She knew that she was driving this woman mad, and that made Ruby smirk. The lady looked like she could use a good un-snapping, with her hairpins all in place and clean clothes.

”Sort of.”

“I didn’t go to Hogwarts.”

Now this was just becoming ridiculous.  Primrose was not going to stand for this much longer.  If she was sort of a muggle-born, but didn’t go to Hogwarts… there had to be something about this witch that  would explain everything.  Prim knew it was there, knew she was keeping it secret and that meant it was something bad.  It had to be something bad.  Or else why would it be a secret? 

If she could just figure it out… she would be indispensible! 

 “Oh, with whom did you study then?”  Prim tried not to sound as surprised as she was, or as frustrated as she was, but she guessed from the tightness in her jaw that it could probably be heard from all the way across the room and maybe down the hall… and outside in the alleyway.