1100 hours


There were no official rooms for werewolf mentors or support groups but Adrestia was getting used to booking the department's meeting rooms for those few charges of hers who preferred to take their appointments at the Ministry. She'd got in a quarter to the hour and turned on the Wireless set, while she sat on a conference table that was much too big for their purposes today.

Nothing about this room screamed personable anyway.

Empty chairs and messy shelves full of reference books. The walls were decorated  with framed posters, spouting information about 'Werewolf Factoids!' and 'The ABCs of Safe House Transformations!' It was pretty dismal. Today's spring shower would have been cheerier.

Tia brought her legs up on to the table, folding them as she bobbed her head along to the Wireless music and started flipping through the folder they had handed her earlier this week. Hannah Bombay's Ministry profile, with a post-it note from the DMLE bloke (it read: "Bark worse than bite"). She laughed to herself, picking out the note and crumpling it.

When she glanced up to toss the bit of paper into the bin, the door opened. Tia threw the note expertly across the room - score! - and then turned her attention back to the witch who was to be her fifth charge.

"Hey. You look a lot better than your profile suggests," she held up the folder that bore a badly lit photograph of Bombay. "Come on in and shut the door behind you. Do you mind the music? I can turn it off."

The first thing Hannah noticed when she entered the room was the music. She’d never been a fan, much preferring quiet solitude as a way to relax or concentrate. Music was noise, distracting, unnecessary. It was much like she imagined this meeting with a werewolf mentor would be; distracting and unnecessary. Unfortunately, being a term of her new ‘fresh start’[1], she had no choice but to meet Adrestia Gamp twice a month. Why anyone would want to volunteer themselves for this was beyond Bombay.

"Hey. You look a lot better than your profile suggests," Bright eyes fell to the witch currently propping her legs up on the table and throwing some paper in the bin. Bushy eyebrows rose a fraction as her first judgement was made. Miss Gamp was older than her but dressed younger and had a far younger spirit. She looked comfortable in the clinical room with walls dressed in pamphlets and posters about werewolves.

“Please do.” she wasn’t going to stand on ceremony if she was being forced to be here. Hannah obliged and pushed the door shut, her eyes not once leaving her new mentor. Presuming she was expected to sit, Hannah pulled out a chair and lowered herself into it. There was a couple of chairs between herself and Gamp, a comfortable distance maintained.

“It’s hard to look adequate when you’ve just been arrested post full moon. Hairbrushes aren’t a priority of the werewolf capture unit.” She shrugged, remembering exactly when that photograph had been taken[2].

1.	The Illusion of Freedom
2.	When Hannah and Knox were caught out during the full moon

Tia reached into her breast pocket, drawing her wand to give the Wireless a quick flick - the music cut off in the middle of a fade out. She looked back at Hannah and noted the wariness, which wasn't unusual for charges who were being made to see a mentor (instead of volunteering). It gave her a good sense of what to expect from the other werewolf. Girl didn't like being ordered around, couldn't blame her.

            "Hairbrushes aren’t a priority of the werewolf capture unit."

Adrestia laughed, a single high cackle as she pulled back from the table and got to her feet. "Oh, fuck, no wonder!" she moved to a small table in the corner of the room - a frequently replenished source of bad coffee and decent tea. "Bad news boys, our WCU. Or bad news ladies, whatever."

She picked out a paper cup, glancing over her shoulder.

"If you've read the rubbish from level two, then you'll know I'm Adriasta Gamp. Call me Tia or Miss Gamp." A tea bag went in, then the hot water. "We're just going to go over some basic questions today, shouldn't be long. You want a hot drink? Something colder maybe? You're looking warm in layers there."

While she waited for the leaves to steep, Tia turned around to face Hannah with a knowing look. Several werewolves who came to the support groups did the same thing, to hide their scars, so she could suss out why the younger witch was dressed like a forty year old lecturer.

She liked to talk, Adrestia Gamp. Some people felt the need to fill silences with speech, an attempt to please others. The music was gone but the chatter was eager, friendly and unwelcome. 7 months and 14 days…8 days now. Twice a month meetings. That meant about 14, maybe 15 meetings with the chatty witch who liked to put her feet on the table.

Did she want a drink? Would she had to stay long enough to drink one?
“Tea, black. Thank you.” It would give her hands something to do instead of wanting to pull her coat sleeves down. But Gamp was right, she was warm, too warm wrapped up so well in the start of summer. Unfortunately, when given the choice between uncomfortable heat and being stared at for the scars and burn marks, the heat was the preferable choice.

“Museum curator of ancient cartography. Nearly a decade as a werewolf and now a werewolf mentor wanting to help poor wolves who just want to talk.” Hannah eyes scanned over her new mentor, her expression deadpan. “I don’t want to talk.”

Two teas it was. Adrestia turned her back to Hannah once more, preparing another cup and taking the tea bag out of her own. She was looking forward to something nice and cosy on a Sunday morning. Especially after last week's transformation, which had been a solid trip to hell - twice over.

Behind her, Hannah was giving Tia the barebones summary of her own life.

"Aaw," she returned to the table and placed both their cups down - this time taking a seat one chair away from her charge. "I was looking forward to doing the whole introductions bit. I guess that saves us time."

Bit creepy, but she was told to expect that. Tia had to remember that Hannah was a criminal. Lots of Beings and Werewolves got into that lifestyle because they had no choice but that didn't mean she should expect them not to keep old habits. She sipped her tea and reached into her back pocket for what looked like a shiny new pocket watch.

Stainless steel. "You totally don't have to talk. What I'll do is this: I'll set my watch for... thirty, forty minutes? That's how long they expect us to chat," she gestured at the space between the two of them, "You can sit there, not talking. I can sit here, also not talking."

Adrestia was already turning the dial on her watch until it it the right numbers. She set it down on the table, then lifted her feet to rest on the chair in front of her.

"You'll be happy, I'll squeeze some daydreaming in," Tia wrapped her hands around her cup lifting her shoulders into a shrug. "And then you can come back before your next transformation. We can do it all over again. Quiet time for poor wolves, right?"

The witch sat closer when she returned with the tea, causing Hannah’s lips to press together in distaste. It was one thing to be forced into a room with someone who just wanted a chat, it was another to have them invade her personal space like a friendly gremlin.

The healer’s arms were crossed when Gamp started to pull out her pocket watch, apparently happy to sit in silence but chatting as she did it. To prove a point. Hannah would let her, glad to have some silence.

So, it was with relief that she picked her cup up, stood up, and moved to look at the posters and information adorning the walls.

But silence in a room with a stranger was uncomfortable and the thought of continuing all 15 meetings in a similar ilk made Hannah more uncomfortable than the idea of conversing.

So, at 11:17, she turned her back to the wall and looked at the other witch.

“Call me Hannah. No nicknames or short versions. Just Hannah. I’m not a wolf. I’m a healer. And my whole life, that’s all I ever wanted to do.”

Intimacy issues, maybe? Tia noted the displeased look on Hannah's face when she'd sat closer than before - it made her wonder if it was to do with trust or insecurity. The former as a result of past betrayals, the latter a side-effect of bearing werewolf scars. It took courage to bare one's marks, to let other people close enough to bare them.

But she didn't have long to think about this; the other witch was game to play the quiet game. Which was fine.

Some of Tia's charges came in to do nothing but sit down and enjoy the silence; it was her job to give them what they needed to reach a comfortable point of their lives as werewolves. As it turned out, the quiet game didn't last long with Bombay.

             "I’m not a wolf. I’m a healer. And my whole life, that’s all I ever wanted to do."

Adrestia looked up from the notes she'd been reading, taken from the DMLE folder. She tipped her head back and observed Hannah with a frank expression. Not a wolf, huh?

"You can be both," she offered in a matter-of-fact tone, "But if you don't want to talk about that, fine. Not everyone wants to, um, embrace the wolf."

A small, self-deprecating smile. It sounded cheesy but it was an accurate way of describing how a lot of werewolves were beginning to accept their lycanthropy as something more than affliction. It had positive value.

That was how she felt about it anyway. Tia glanced down at her notes, "So you're a Healer. How are you finding your work at Azkaban? Treating you alright, after your last transformation?"

‘Embrace the wolf’ sounded like something that should be on one of the posters around the room. Embrace the wolf within yourself and come to terms with your new way of being. It should have been a slogan for pro-werewolf groups and werewolf mentors everywhere.

Hannah, on the other hand, was at a complete loss as to how anyone could embrace the beast that took over your mind and body every full moon. How could you embrace your life as a dangerous beast? How could you live with knowing that with just one mistake, one accident to stop you reaching a safe house, you could take another’s life?

“I was a prisoner there and now I’m a resident healer. How do you think they’re treating me, Miss Gamp?” There was frustration in her voice as she spoke, irritated with the situation. She’d known working there would be difficult, but the professional lines were blurry and inexact. Hannah detested a lack of exactitude.

“Do you embrace the wolf? Is that why you’ve chosen to mentor werewolves? It seems rather contradictory to the ministry’s intentions of making monsters of us all.”

            "I was a prisoner there and now I’m a resident healer. How do you think they’re treating me, Miss Gamp?"

Tia smiled sadly at this response - Hannah's circumstances were unique in this sense, and working in Azkaban was not an enviable position even if you hadn't just served a term there. There was nothing level four could really do about it; she knew that this was all part of her mentee's sentence, part of paying for crimes they didn't talk about. "If there are any transgressions, if they're mistreating you, complaints can be made. I can make them on your behalf."

There would be a lot of forms and testimonials involved but this is how the system worked. Or it was how Tia knew to use the system to exact some justice for her fellow werewolves.

"I totally embrace the wolf," her smile turned silly at repeating the clichéd phrase, "I think of it as, like... a handicap. It makes me different from a lot of people and it puts me at disadvantage in lots of situations, but it's also formed who I am today." Adrestia put aside the folder she'd be holding, "And I like who I've become."

She really did. Being a werewolf had made her more sympathetic to the plight of other people, more aware of troubles outside the privileged bubble of her family. It also made her more grateful of what she had going well for her.

"Anyway, the Ministry is more divided on the subject of werewolves than you think it is," she shrugged and gestured at the Werewolf awareness posters around them. "It's a struggle to make non-werewolves more aware of our humanity, and to help our own kind find a community where they're comfortable talking about their problems."

“And fuel their distaste? I don’t need your help.” With arms crossed over her chest, Hannah maintained a defensive position despite the biting response. Yet, that had always been her response to being vulnerable, she bit. She bit bloody hard. It had never worked and the girl was quite aware that it wasn’t likely to work from now, but it was instinct, inbuilt habit. Miss Gamp wasn’t a welcome addition to her life, she was a necessary evil to keep the ministry off her back, Hannah certainly didn’t fancy owing her anything after taking help.

During Gamp’s tale of how she’d become someone she liked, Hannah, unimpressed with the diatribe, turned her back on the other witch, gaze dancing over the various posters that covered the walls of the meeting room. Images of dangerous, vicious werewolves had been printed in vibrant ink, some flashing to attract the eye. One particular drawing illustrated a wolf with glowing yellow eyes that almost stood out from the parchment. Gamp may have liked who she’d become but who else truly did? All of her colleagues in this building no doubt simply thought of her as a monster.

For a few minutes, Hannah let a silence hang in the air, keeping her back to the witch who was supposed to mentor her through this troubling time.
“You’re deluded.” Words finally slipped from the short witch who turned to face her companion for the past half hour. “I would truly love to see how divided the ministry actually is. Everyone who matters is against us. Are you that comfortable in your cushy job that you can’t see that every one of your colleagues will turn on you the minute you put a foot out of line, make a mistake or get trapped somewhere?”

It was too much to expect anyone to change as the result of one or two spiels - Tia knew this, and knew that it would take more time and effort to have an effect on Hannah. Hopefully her words would at least begin a thought process that would help her new mentee come to accept the help available to her.

            "You’re deluded." Or maybe not! "... the minute you put a foot out of line, make a mistake or get trapped somewhere?”

"Are you telling me that you don't think the people who do care matter at all? Is it just department heads and Ministers who matter now?" Adrestia raised both her eyebrows at Hannah, quick to latch on to the cynicism. "I don't just have colleagues, I have friends. And I trust them to take care of me when my Lycanism gets out of hand."

Which it sometimes did, close to the full moon. She sighed and leaned back in her chair, arms crossed.

"I've been a werewolf longer than you have, Hannah. You can make assumptions about me and my cushy job but you can't assume you know what I've been through-" she glanced at the MLE folder on the meeting table, "- just like I can't assume what you've experienced. But there are good people. I mean, stupid people, because they'll never really understand us... but they want to help."

Adrestia thought of her cousins. She thought about her friends at the museum, who took her out for steak dinners close to the moon and who left her alone in the days afterwards if she wanted it. "We're a minority, so we have to be brave sometimes and trust people who are capable of taking advantage of us. No witch, wizard, werewolf or vampire is an island."

“Wanting to help and helping are two extremely different things.” Hannah Bombay quietly responded, unwilling to change her own opinion just because some ministry witch with a file said so. “The only person who has ever truly helped me is locked in a cell on Level 2, bound for Azkaban or something far worse. You find those good people you’re so convinced exist; you find them and show me exactly what they can do before I ever believe things will change.” The more Hannah thought of it, the more frustrated she grew. Part of her wanted to sit down and tell Gamp every damn thing that she had been through, to show her just how much she hated the ministry and everything that it stood for, to show her how much she hated their world. But Hannah wasn’t a sharer, she wasn’t the type to sit and share woes or talk things through. It was how she’d found herself in this nightmare a year ago; she remained silent.

A hand went up to brush bushy brown hair from her face as alert eyes danced down to the file on the desk beside her ‘mentor’.
“What does that file even say? Were you told that you were meeting with a criminal werewolf today? Or were you actually given some details? What do you think that you know about me?” Now Hannah’s gaze was firmly on the other witch in the room, unrelenting as she finally lowered herself into a seat once more; a seat still a comfortable distance from the witch that was supposed to change her whole outlook on life.

              "You find those good people you’re so convinced exist; you find them and show me exactly what they can do before I ever believe things will change."

"You're on a floor of people like that! Not all of them but many of them are trying to affect change in policy." Adrestia interjected, raising her arms to indicate the space around them, "And me! And the other mentors. Or do other werewolves also not count?" For somebody keen to assert her validity, Hannah was easy to discount the significance of her fellow wolves.

Adrestia drained the rest of her tea and crushed the paper cup into a little ball while Hannah stared accusingly at the Ministry folder that contained her profile. It was always unnerving to remember that every werewolf had one - but then, so did every animagus or legilimens and vampire and so on. Anyone who could be considered a threat to 'regular' society.

As if anyone in the wizarding world was actually normal. "I was told you have a criminal record, yep. They are required to tell me that." Tia reached for the folder, drumming her finger nails on the closed cover. "I can't actually show you what's in this. You can request it from the Lycan Legislature, and they will deliver you your own copy."

An apologetic half-smile... because Tia like being a mentor and didn't want to have it taken from her just because she broke a bit of red tape.

"I'm not here to tell you it's all going to be all pooping sunshine-and-rainbows," she said this last bit in a sing-song voice. "Just that there are resources available to you if or when you need them. I'm one of those resources. Getting discriminated at work? Owl me. Need to vent? Arrange an appointment. Want a better safe house? I'm the witch for you."

Tia glanced at her watch, standing up. She threw her balled up cup into the bin - another score! - and then looked back at Hannah. "I am happy being a werewolf, and happy finding people to help me or my kind. You can cope however you want... I'll see you at your next appointment either way. I gotta run. You can't bring that bad attitude to your workplace but you can bring it here. That's my job."