Saturday, 12 November
9:39 AM
Two days after the November full moon

Kurby Bagnold looked grim as he stepped into the Auror office.

That wasn't exactly an unusual sight, particularly during the days following the height of the lunar cycle, but it was unusual to see the Head of the Werewolf Capture Unit on Level Two.  Judging by his appearance, Kurby hadn't gotten much sleep in the past few days.  Even from afar, his expression looked worn and tired, and he was scruffy enough that it was clear that he hadn't bothered to shave since before the Capture Unit's monthly patrol had started.

Like most Saturday mornings, Level Two was largely empty.  A few Aurors who had been unlucky enough to pull the weekend shift were congregating in the break area, chatting amiably as they poured their morning coffee.  As he passed by, Kurby spotted a familiar shock of red hair amongst the group, the owner of which was clearly the source of most of the conversation. He rapped sharply on the wall outside the break area with the back of his knuckles, pausing for half a beat until Trevelyan had turned and caught his eye before continuing on his original path.

Ed Pratt's ascension to Head Auror over a year ago had left the other wizard with an upgraded private office.  That, at least, made this sort of conversation easier.  The last time Kurby had gotten together with any of the Aurors to discuss this particular topic, they'd had to meet after-hours at Archer Radley's flat so that the Level Two leadership could turn a blind eye.[1]  This time, they might not have to sneak around.

Luckily, it appeared that Pratt was working despite the fact that it was a Saturday: a blonde head was bent low over the desk, probably trying to figure out how to decipher his own troll-like handwriting.  Kurby stopped just inside the door.

"Pratt," he greeted his former schoolmate shortly.  His hand was already on the doorknob, ready to pull it closed behind him.  "Busy?"

1.	15 May, 2009 - Conspiracy by Moonlight

It was Quincey’s weekend to have the kids. Such weekends should have given he auror free time to develop his personal life now that he’d once more been on his own since the summer. Instead, he found himself hating spending more than a few waking hours in the house alone. Still, years after their murders, he saw it as his parents’ house. Being alone in it was just plain uncomfortable and the wizard certainly wasn’t ready to get comfortable with his own company. This was why the Head Auror could be found catching up on dreaded paperwork in his office on Level 2.

As usual, the door was open. He’d taken a similar manner to Raynor regarding this. Far better to be open and available for your team. Plus, a closed door was just too damn quiet for someone that preferred to be surrounded by people.

Attention was pulled from the arrest report when Bagnold greeted him. Kurby and Ed hadn’t really exchanged any words since being trapped together in a plummeting elevator with Ailment Reid. Ed looked up and frowned. Bagnold and Paddy? Great. Just great.

“Why would I be busy?” Pratt dropped his quill and sat back in his large leather chair. “I have crimson robed slaves to do everything for me.” Bagnold didn’t look in the mood for jokes. Bagnold never looked in the mood for jokes. What a boring existence he must have!

He’d drawn the short straw of the schedule this week, but at least it had been a quiet Saturday morning so far.  Jonas had been pouring himself a second cup of coffee and chatting with Bailey and Childs when the werewolf hunter had knocked to get his attention.  He was on friendly enough terms with Bagnold — probably as friendly as anyone could be, he imagined — but the other wizard wasn’t exactly the sort to drop in just to catch up or have a chat.

Quickly covering his surprise, Jonas politely excused himself from conversation with the other two Aurors and followed Bagnold to Pratt’s open office door. 

“Careful, mate,” he interjected, flashing the Head Auror a quick grin as he stepped inside.  Crimson-robed slaves, indeed.  “Sound a bit too close to Rosier there for my liking.”

Kurby’s expression remained impassive as he shut the office door behind Trevelyan.  Banter was practically a national sport on Level Two, but he wasn’t in the mood to engage with the Aurors today.  If Pratt wanted to spend his Saturday making quips about forcing his employees into indentured servitude, so be it.

Kurby preferred getting straight to the point.

“We caught a direwolf durin’ the full moon two nights ago.” He shifted to stand so that he was facing both of the other wizards.

Both Pratt and Trevelyan had been involved in the last major direwolf incident: Pratt most impactfully, when Dugan Macduff had murdered his parents and then threatened his young family.  After the initial outbreak and terrorism more than two years before, there hadn’t been many daylight attacks.  There were still a few known direwolves — Ed Pratt’s cousin, for one — but Level Four had mostly managed to keep the condition from spreading further.

Ed was all ready to joke and wind up Bagnold, because who wouldn’t want to? The guy was a moody sod and it was too good to resist, even if Paddy had the gall to compare him to Rosier. They both knew Ed couldn’t afford veela piss aftershave.

Ed’s mood, however, immediately dropped when Bagnold said the word direwolf. Such a change in emotion was easily read on Pratt’s face in this moment when the blood drained from his cheeks and he stared ahead at his old schoolmate. People could throw just about anything at Ed and he’d deal with it. But direwolves? That hit him hard. MacDuff had hit him hard.

“Okay.” He needed to ask the right questions, he needed to do his damned job. But, however much he’d tried to push it back, Ed was suddenly greeted by images of his parents dead on the living room floor. He was silent for a moment, staring at Kurby but not really. It took a while to drag himself from the shock when he finally blinked and sat back in his chair and gave a quick nod to the chairs in front of his desk.

“$&%*.” Not professional but who gave a monkey’s arse? “What do you know?”

The change in Pratt was almost instantaneous.  The Auror’s face went gray and he stared back, almost wide-eyed, at the werewolf hunter.  Kurby looked sidelong at Trevelyan, whose startled expression had almost instantly shifted into a surreptitious glance at Pratt as well. 

They all knew what the last set of direwolf attacks had cost the blond wizard.  That was one reason why Kurby had wanted to do this here, alone, rather than try to notify his Level Two counterpart through official channels.

It took Pratt a minute to pull a response together.  Kurby glanced at the indicated chairs, hesitating for barely an instant before he stepped over and pulled one back to sit.  Normally, he would have rather stayed on his feet, but this was why he’d bleeding well come here.  After what had happened the last time that he’d gone up against a direwolf on his own, he didn’t want to try and deal with this alone.

“We had a possible daylight attack back in September, after nothin’ for over two years,” he said, glancing between the two Aurors.  “An ex-Azkaban inmate turned up with his throat turned out in Scotland.  Nagde took a look at the body, but we couldn’t verify what had killed him, and we couldn’t place the time of death.  We’ve been keepin’ an eye out for anything similar since then.”

He took a deep breath, visibly pacing himself through his thoughts.

“The other night durin’ the full moon, someone” — It was easier to leave out mention of his new vampire friend, at least for now — “reported seein’ a werewolf in London, so I took a team there.  We found the biggest goddamned werewolf I’ve seen since Greyback holed up in an old abandoned train station near Camden."  He grimaced, giving a shake of his head.  "We managed to subdue it and bring it back to the Ministry.  It stayed transformed all yesterday, and then finally turned back into a human when the sun set last night.”

Nothing good could come out of Bagnold paying an unexpected visit to Level Two.  Jonas listened silently, his gaze flickering almost immediately over to Ed.  The Head Auror wasn’t the type to regularly talk about his feelings, but the word direwolf tore open a whole host of wounds that still hadn’t healed from two years before.

He lowered himself to sit in the third chair, listening silently as Bagnold recounted the chain of recent events.  An ex-Azkaban inmate... That, along with the presence of a possible direwolf to begin with, suggested the possible involvement of someone else.

“You manage to get an ID on him once he turned back, mate?” he asked Bagnold, his forehead creasing.

The werewolf hunter shook his head.  ”That’s one place where we could use a hand,” he said shortly.  ”From the look of him, he might be an ex-Azzie too, but we don’t have him listed in the Registry.”

The silence hung between them for a long moment.  Jonas cupped his chin in his hand, resting his elbow on the edge of Pratt’s desk. 

“The last I heard from Tawse was nearly two years ago,” he said at last, glancing at Pratt again.[1]   “You reckon something spurred him into making a move again?”

1.	Referring to the discussion on parenting advice from January 2010

Kurby was talking and Ed was trying to listen. He was staring, making the right expression, nodding when necessary. But he was actively forcing the words to sink in. A direwolf had almost destroyed his entire family. The direwolf epidemic had almost destroyed Frank’s life. Heck, it probably had destroyed it. This shit was personal.

When Jonas spoke, Ed’s green eyes shot to his colleague and friend, slightly wider than they’d been. In all his concentration on Kurby, somehow he’d missed the blazing red hair and ridiculousness that was Paddy when he’d followed the brooding werewolf hunter into the room.

As he thought, Ed leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbrows on the desk and steepling his fingers. “Who says they’ve got owt to do with ‘im this time? Bastard’s still skulkin’ in the shadows, ‘ent he? Though it’s worth checkin’ out.” This wouldn’t end nicely either way. “Ye’ve got our cooperation, mate. Guessin’ it’s Trevelyan ye want to buddy up with?” They all knew it wouldn’t be sensible for Ed to get involved to more than a supervisory extent.

Kurby cast a silent look over at Trevelyan.  The red-headed Auror talked too much, but he was thorough and methodical, albeit with making the occasional wild connection.  When they'd all banded together to take down Macduff, Trevelyan had been the one to suggest using the direwolf's improved senses against him.

"That works," he agreed, nodding back to Pratt.

Having an Auror to support on the investigation side of things would help, at least in terms of fleshing out the profile of their direwolf.  But even more than that, there was the next full moon to think about.  The werewolf hunter paused, pressing his mouth shut for a moment.

"Reckon the other place where we could use a hand is durin' the next couple full moons," he said, looking back to the Head Auror again.  The line of his jaw tightened slightly; Levels Two and Four usually kept to their own lanes when it came to things like werewolves, but trying to go it alone wasn't tenable anymore. 

"It was one thing when we ran a patrol for twelve hours once a month.  But I don't have enough wands to keep everyone alert and rested when our watch lasts three whole days."  Kurby swallowed, his eyes flicking from Pratt to Trevelyan and back again.  "If you lot were willin' to lend a hand and coordinate with us for the next couple full moons, we could think about runnin' full patrols the whole time.  Just until we can see if this pans out to be anything."

There was more. Ed sighed; there was always more. But not an unreasonable request whatsoever. Just a request that would further stretch their coffers and lead to a fair amount of good will from staff that already made a habit of unpaid overtime. How often, however, did Level 4 request their help so directly? Ed had known Kurby for years, hell, they’d been in the same year at school, but he’d only worked with the man rarely. He did know, however, that Kurby was not the sort to ask for help lightly.

“I’d have to speak to Carstairs.” Pratt muttered, pulling a scruffy piece of parchment in front of this. This sheet of parchment was Edward Pratt’s to do list/diary/reminders. He really did need his own assistant. But no, now that possible budget would be going on werewolves. Direwolves. “Can’t see him sayin’ no, so I’ll get a schedule together. Better to ask for forgiveness than permission. Ye want a day each side of the full moon?”

Kurby hadn’t been entirely sure of the reception that he was going to get in the Auror office.  Level Two often wasn’t happy about what they perceived as the Capture Unit either stepping on their toes or dumping extra work on them, and in the past, occasional attempts to collaborate with Aurors like Ackerly Fox had been dismal failures.  Pratt’s response was as reasoned and cooperative as he could have hoped for.

“We’ve been runnin’ the patrols for about sixty hours around the full moon,” he said, starting to rise to his feet.  “But I’ll take whatever support you lot can give us.  Li’s taken on most of the scheduling on our end, so she can reach out next week.”

The thought of having to plan for another direwolf incident didn’t feel quite as overwhelming as it had felt twenty-four hours before.  Even if they were going to get thrown straight into the fire, at least they had time to come up with a plan and put more resources in place.

“Thanks,” he said, inclining his head slightly to Pratt.  He glanced at the other Auror.  “Trevelyan, you want to come down to the Capture Unit office when you’re in on Monday?  I’ll get everything together to go over with you.”

The red-headed Auror tossed him an informal, two-fingered salute.  ”It’s a date,” he replied, flashing him a quick smile.  ”See you then, mate.”

The werewolf hunter gave him an even nod, and then headed back out of the Head Auror’s office.

Matter-of-fact as always, Bagnold finished the conversation that he’d come for and then headed out. Jonas waited for the werewolf hunter to leave and for the door to shut behind him before he glanced back at Pratt. 

Direwolves.  It wasn’t a word that had been commonly heard on Level Two for a couple of years.  The last time around, Cameron Rosier had essentially tied their hands behind their backs in responding.  At least now they wouldn’t have to navigate that potential land mine in addition to trying to deal with the threat.

But it was still an incredibly loaded topic, particularly for the likes of Ed Pratt. 

“You alright, mate?” he asked the Head Auror after a beat.

Kurby exited with what he’d come for, leaving Ed alone in the office with the ginger. He didn’t have a quick reply to if he was alright, and instead studied the desk before him for at least a minute, expression plain. He was alright; he’d been forced to be alright. MacDuff was gone and had been for a long time. It didn’t ease what had happened, though. The war had taken his older brother away from him in mind and MacDuff and the direwolf catastrophe had taken his parents. He didn’t want to reply to if he was alright.

“Yer gonna support this in any way ye can, Jonas.” Ed only called him ‘Jonas’ when things were serious. Really serious. “I want updates. Detailed updates. We’re not having a repeat of any of that shit from last time.” No jokes, no smile, no Ed making light of a dark situation. He simply scowled across the desk, looking decidedly older than he usually did.

The lack of a response to his question was enough answer in itself.  Serving in the Auror Corps meant that the professional inevitably had a way of leaking into the personal.  They all had their particular triggers, cases or investigations that hit a little too close to home.  For Jonas, it had always been Runespoors.  Even more than fifteen years after his best friend had been murdered, every time the three-headed snakes and their black market traders reared their heads, the resulting situation felt a bit too raw.

In Ed Pratt's case, it was the original Direwolf incident and the murder of his parents that had pushed him too close to the edge.

But like every other Auror, Pratt was a professional.  They couldn't afford to let themselves be shaken.  Especially not Eddie, who now had the responsibility of managing the entire office.

"At least we're not starting out with our wings clipped this time around, yeah?" he asked, glancing at the door where Bagnold had departed.  Last time, after Dugan Macduff had owled threats to the entire Auror office,[1] Pratt had marched into Cameron Rosier's office and tried to turn in his badge.[2]  Hopefully, Solomon Carstairs would be more reasonable about letting them deal with the situation.

Pratt rarely called him Jonas.  The red-headed Auror nodded, leveraging himself carefully to his feet.  "I'll see what Bagnold has on Monday, and then fill you in," he agreed.  "Would you rather talk to Carstairs yourself, or you reckon I could help with that?"

1.	8 May, 2009 - I've murdered half the town
2.	8 May, 2009 - Welcome to Wonderland

“I’m a big boy.” Ed replied plainly, looking up to the auror now on his feet. “Got a meetin’ first thing Monday, he ‘ent sayin’ no to this, is he?” At least, one would presume. Rosier had tied their hands and Ed had quite literally lost his s@&# in their boss’ office. Despite Ed’s mild distaste for the Solomon Carstairs, he knew him to be far more suitable in the role than the former lawyer ever had been. Carstairs had been one of them and, regardless of him now being a snazzy quill pusher, he got it. He understood.

With a frown, Ed started shuffling the papers on his desk, piling them into stacks that probably only made sense to him.
“I’m goin’ home.” Or rather, for a walk. He needed air. Suddenly the office felt confined and claustrophobic. “Bailey’s on duty this weekend.” Any issues would need to be passed to him. Ed technically wasn’t even supposed to be there.