The action begins late in the evening on Level Two of the Ministry of Magic.

The old man was pallid as he came upon Auror Trainee Grace Eddy at a desk.  He cleared his throat, trying to look as if his house wasn't on fire.

"Ahem.  Evening, Eddy, isn't it?" he asked in his most Wizengamot Elder voice, in the detached way that fell down in a chain of command.  "You're not busy - doesn't matter. Come with me, won't you?"  Even though he was speaking with the younger witch, he was looking around the bullpen to take note of who might be observing what he hoped was coming off as a totally normal interaction.  He faked a smile and wave to Auror Roh as she walked by.

Despite what were probably her best efforts to understand why her professor of many years had forgotten her name, Knox didn't feel Grace Eddy was reacting fast enough.

"Urgently, Grace," he said in a hushed tone, but maintained his facade of professionalism..

He had to be aware that this was not normal operating procedure for either one of them.  In his role as Wizengamot Elder, he rarely had need of direct access to Auror Trainees, and his relationships with his recently former students were more those of a meddling, doting uncle.  But he needed access to her particular talents - there was literally no one else.

Grace was nearing the end of her evening shift in the office, doing her share of filing paperwork  and also pouring through any information possible connected to the recently reported poisoning at St. Mungo's. Though it seemed that there was little their office could do, naturally Grace was intrigued given her interest in healing. And then there was the role of a mere bystander who was glue to media reports in an "it's easy to OD on Crisis News" frenzy.

So even as her shift unceremoniously came to an end, she found herself still slumped in her desk chair, intermittently staring off into space and nervously glancing back down at the files in front of her and the opened Daily Prophet, as if by looking at them alone new information would appear.

Instead, something -- or someone -- else appeared before her. Her brow furrowed quizzically as she saw Knox approach. "Uh....Yes. Good evening Elder Greyfriar...." she managed to return, wondering if she had ever addressed him so formally before. Would anyone realize how silly that sounded or was that just in her own mind?

She bit the inside of her cheek as she considered what to do or say next. "Can I help you?" Well that was a pitiful attempt.

Luckily, Auror Roh, who seemed to be one of the senior most aurors around, barely batted an eyelash at seeing Greyfriar there. Once she was gone, Grace cleared her throat and started to say, "No, I'm not busy. I was just about to---"

Her mouth snapped shut with his insistence to urgently move. Her eyes widened, her quickest and quietest way to gauge his level of seriousness. Then, as if having the reasoning revealed to her by his expression, she simply nodded and murmured, "Oh, of course."

She quickly snatched up her belongings (which weren't many) and with one more glance around to make sure she left her workspace in order, she headed for the door. She glanced at Knox several times on their way out, curiosity nagging at her but knowing silence was best for what was likely his purpose here.

Once out of the office, she queried, "Is everything ok?"

Knox was not an impatient man and he had to appreciate that Grace Eddy was doing valiantly to behave as if everything was normal, but 'normal' was agonizingly full of tiny delays.  But soon enough they were on his way.  He made another show of beaming brightly to Auror Roh on his way out, although she clearly didn't care.

"Ah, wonderful, Eddy! Just what I need. Lead the way!" Greyfriar's pretense was loud enough for anyone nearby to hear, an unusual answer to Grace's question of, "Is everything okay?"

He was otherwise silent until they hit the lift and the doors closed.  Only then did Knox Greyfriar let the air out of his lungs and the narrative came tumbling out in a hiss.

"I have a protective ward on my home. I get," he stalled a moment, "visitors too often lately and I'm a bit remote out there and well, the ward just went off.  There's someone in my house, and it could be nothing but it's likely something. And if it's something it's one or both of two things."

He stalled again, apparently debating how much to say right now.  He scratched at his black beard streaked with grey. The great bear of a man usually glib and cheery looked a bit of a worried wreck. But a moment's gaze at the capable young witch with him was enough reassurance to proceed.

"It's either some poor nearly-dead witch or wizard with a peculiar predicament in common with me, or it's someone bent on violence against the former possibility or myself. Or both."

The lift stopped and the doors opened into the atrium.  Here the hustle and bustle was crowded enough that their presence was nearly anonymous and Knox felt comfortable dropping the pretense.

"So you see?" he asked in a normal voice as to be heard.

Grace tried to keep a stoic expression as they headed for the lift, even as she sensed what his presence regarded. It created a great amount of apprehension and excitement and any possible fatigue that she may have had due to the end of a long work day dissipated.

In the lift, she listened as Knox explained the situation as it were. She tried to discern if he was agitated or equally filled with excitement and apprehension like she was. When he paused, Grace flashed him a reassuring smile and hoped it urged him to continue. More information was always better, but she understood why he guarded it.

Finally, when he gave his last assessment and then turned his question to her, she nodded. "I see. Let's hope the situation is not dire," she said grimly, knowing that the patients Knox had treated more recently had varied in their state of duress. But all had one thing in common: they were Werewolves like he was.

Grace had never before considered herself a true advocate of their plight but more or less an ally due to association with people like Fauna Blake. But her recent work placed her smack dab in the middle of it while also providing her practical (albeit rogue) experience in becoming a medic.

As they left the lift and were all but swallowed by the crowd, Grace kept her dark eyes steady on his face. "What are the current symptoms?" She wanted to be prepared. "And do you wish to apparate?"

"By my beard, I have no idea," Knox flustered.  "That's my point. I'm going in blind. The only reason I suspect someone's there is that my protection ward was tripped by a 'visitor'. Which is why I need you. And your wand. And your training. I'm no fighter and my healing is, well, rustic."

Knox hadn't formally practiced any Healing magic since the 1970s when he'd been a young apprentice. He had significantly more practical knowledge than most magic folk, but it was dated.

"We'll Apparate.  I'll Side-Along you. Best if we pop in a bit down the lane rather than my front doorstep."  He took her hand. "Wand out?"