11.40am


The Head of Spirit had been called away on a poltergeist-related emergency shortly before his meeting with the Division Heads was about to wrap up - just a standard midweek gathering to touch base with everyone and listen to new concerns or suggestions. Balfour liked these meetings; it made him feel more connected to aspects of the department that weren't his specialty and he always came out of them feeling reassured of their general competency.

"I think that's us for today," the Scotsman dug out a sheet from under the stack of folders on his busy desk, glancing down at it before addressing the witch and wizards sat across.  "There's some ground we have to cover next week, Mrs L unearthed a couple of Hollow's old proposals."

He tapped the list with the unlit end of the cigarette that his secretary had forbid him to smoke during a meeting. "Territory reclamation for the beast sanctuaries up north," Balfour read out with a glance at Vincent, who was already getting up to leave; the other wizard mimicked one of Bal's sardonic little salutes.

"...and a proposal for the eventual legalisation of vampire feedings. Something for you think about eh, Ceph?" Bal smiled mildly at Gamp, aware that it was a controversial subject in light of recent events. "I'll see what else we can dig up."

It had been something of an event, inheriting both Alec and Hollow's office, finding all manner of projects that barely (or never) came to fruition. Balfour thought it was important to go through them, footprints left behind by older men with more experience, even if he didn't always agree with his predecessors' ideas.

"Same time next week," he glanced at his wall clock over the office door, relieved to see they had wrapped up early this morning.

Fortunately, this week’s meeting wasn’t looking to go over and drag. Formal meetings were an unfortunate part of Bruce’s still new position as a Division Head. Middle management meant management meetings and reports and all of the boring stuff sat at a desk or sipping coffee and having to act professional. For a witch who’d previously lived in shorts and her cargo jacket, enjoying being out in the field, it was hard.

She’d already been tapping her heel on the floor when Balfour started to wrap up, and she closed the file on her lap with a click.

But then, Spectre continued, talking about things to cover next week. Things brought up from previous Heads of Department. Nothing to really involve her.
"...and a proposal for the eventual legalisation of vampire feedings.” 

With this suggestion, Bruce blinked.
“What’s there to think about?” She asked, feeling a heat rising in her belly.

            “What’s there to think about?”

Balfour exchanged a look with Cepheus, who followed Vincent out to ask some question or other - no doubt an impulsive inspiration. The Being Head had liberty to leave, unlike him. Why was Iona butting in on this? He had never seen her take a special interest in vampires and she was usually keen to finish these meetings.

"All sorts I imagine," he replied dryly, glancing at the purple folder on the top of another stack. "According to the proposal anyway. We'll need to see how feasible it is and if there's enough support to get things going."

Personally, Bal held no grudge against the vampiric community and was happy for steps to be taken in this direction. There was something a little cruel about expecting them to drink from bags for all their immortal lives.

Gamp, the fence straddle with permanent slinters up his arse made a quick retreat with a probably made up question for the recently appointed Head of Beasts. Iona chose not to mention that, she wasn’t sure what she really thought of Cepheus Gamp, but she certainly wasn’t impressed with his choice of vampire to take on as a consultant.

When Balfour started to respond to her question, Iona found it a struggle to school her expression. She’d never been adept as a poker face. People could easily read any expression, which was often not a problem.

“You anticipate support from the wizarding population for this?” Tread carefully, Bruce. She knew to watch what she said, as Balfour had already shown his colours with his opinions on her being a werewolf. What other opinions had he been keeping to himself up until now? Was he pro vampire but ‘can’t have people thinking we’re soft on werewolves’? Was he more political that she’d given him credit for before?

            “You anticipate support from the wizarding population for this?”

He shrugged, leaning back in his chair and lighting his cigarette - it was just him and Bruce so Mrs L couldn't possibly protest. "Maybe, if it's framed as a preventive measure?" Bal drew in a breath thoughtfully, reading the upset in his colleague's face but unable to guess its reasons. They never really talked vampires; it was feasible if she just didn't like them.

"I would like to see some regulation," he decided that it was best to make his stance clear, "and it might even make people less afraid, if we're lucky. Wouldn't say no to some goodwill from the vampires either."

They were, after all, as much a community as the werewolves. Or the merpeople, the centaurs. Balfour served them as much as he did anyone else, as a public servant.

Bruce felt like she’d stepped into a dream brought on by consuming too much wine in the preceding evening. Her former colleague, now boss, was talking about vampires as if they were humans who needed better rights. Despite how much many called werewolves monsters, Vampires were monsters. Didn’t they chose to become vampires? They chose an eternity of feeding off the life source of humans. Now her new boss wanted to give them the freedom to do so?

“Of course, they’ll have some good will if you’re offering them a wizard buffet.” Bruce said before she could really censor herself. Upon realising, she frowned and shook her head. “Sorry, it’s just…there are a lot of people that will agree this isn’t something to be considered. It should never be legalised for us to become food.” she couldn’t drag her mind from her own daughter, offering herself up for the thrill of it. If legalised, how many other naïve kids would find themselves in one of these covens being drank from?

It was with a softer expression and tone that Bruce now spoke, “I’m not sure I’d want that to become my legacy if I were in that chair.” Not that she’d ever want to be in that chair.

His eyebrows climbed high, brow wrinkling in mild surprise. A wizard buffet...!

Balfour wasn't sure how to respond: he hadn't expected this level of ignorance out of someone on level four, or at least he had not expected someone to reveal their ignorance so openly to him. Especially when he couldn't, as department head, be seen to exhibit a moral bias against anyone represented by them.

           "I’m not sure I’d want that to become my legacy if I were in that chair."

"Then it's a damn good thing you aren't in this chair," he shrugged, tapping his cigarette in an ashtray. "Whether or not you and I like it, Bruce, vampires sometimes feed on live human blood. If they're going to do it I would rather we know about these things than letting vulnerables disappear off the map because it's too icky for people to think about."

Back on Beasts, there was always an understanding when it came to dangerous creatures (or beings, as Merpeople and Centaurs came under their division). They were dangerous but they were part of an ecosystem, of a balance that had nothing to do with the morality of man. You didn't get angry at a dragon who tried to bite your head off.

Vampires were once human; they couldn't turn them back, though, and they formed entire communities. He wanted to make it easier for everyone to find a balance they could live with.

"Anyway, it's for Beings to handle." Balfour glanced at the door, behind which Cepheus and Vincent had long disappeared. "They'll have my backing if Ceph wants to push it through."

"Then it's a damn good thing you aren't in this chair,"

At this, Bruce’s eyebrows shot up. Thank Merlin she was never going to be pushed into this particular chair, while the wizard currently in it hadn’t waited for the body of his predecessor to even get cold (or discovered!).

“Icky.” Bruce repeated the word with distaste. What did he think this was, a teenager whingeing about picking up a dog’s poo? A vampire legally feasting off a human donor was not icky, it was repulsive, and she wasn’t ashamed in saying it. Vampires needed regulations, not further freedoms. They looked like humans but without the humanity of their previous form. Was Balfour forgetting the vampire murder on Christmas day? Did he think they were like ordinary witches and wizards?

"Anyway, it's for Beings to handle." Spectre may as well have said ‘none of your business, off with you’.

It was for Ceph to handle. Trust young Splinters would be getting their new boss’ full backing should he chose to pursue it. Maybe Bagnold was right about this new leadership. Werewolves could be continually beaten down ‘can’t be seen to be too soft.’ But Vampires? Let’s give them a ticket to the buffet.

“And my proposals, Balfour? Those get your backing too, or are they too soft?”

           “And my proposals, Balfour? Those get your backing too, or are they too soft?”

The confusion on his brow cleared and he smiled grimly at the witch across the desk. So that's what this was about - she thought the vampires were getting preferential treatment. He should have known this was going to be a part of the job, the division heads getting bitchy about each other's projects over attention or funding. Bal had been on the other side only a few weeks ago, after all.

"That depends on the proposal, doesn't it?" he shook his head at her. "Apples and oranges Bruce, you know I have to look at everything on a proposal-by-proposal basis. Can't paint everything with the same brush, can I?"

Everyone thought their cause was the more important one and he just had to decide which ones to prioritise to different ends. He took another long drag, breathing the smoke out through his nose as they spoke. "Let Cepheus worry about the vampires. You're not going to wake up in the middle of the night anytime soon, with Dracula hanging off the roof."

It had hardly been a month since he assumed his position as Department Head and he wasn't keen on making sweeping promises just yet.

Balfour brought up apples and oranges, whatever that even meant. Bruce pressed her teeth together tightly, jaw stiffening. Of course, he couldn’t paint everything with the same brush. To their new leader, vampires deserved more rights than those forced into their condition and penalised for it. Did that look better in public perception? Or would it be an easier proposal to push through quickly?

With a sigh, Bruce reached for the cane and started to push herself up from the chair.
“You don’t know what I might wake up to, Balfour.” She quietly responded. Balfour Spectre, in his big posh manor in Scotland wouldn’t understand, and Bruce was starting to understand that. Perhaps she could have told him all about her daughter, captivated by the idea of being a feed. All that would have done would be to provide more of an insight into her personal life that she’d like yet yielding no results but possibly judgement. The shitty vampire working for Gamp had certainly seen it fit to offer his judgement in place of his help. Maybe he was behind this proposal.

“Vampires wilfully murder. Don’t make the mistake of thinking that because they look like us, they are still human.” She shouldn’t have to tell him that, but she wasn’t sure he completely believed it, himself. “I know you know that, but it’s easy to forget.”

He felt a little bit like he and Iona were having separate conversations somehow, thrown by her response: “You don’t know what I might wake up to, Balfour.” Werewolves had it difficult but even in her dangerous position she had it better than most, married to an auror and assured of Ministry services should she ever need them.

All the same, he wasn't here to puzzle out the fickle ways of witches.

             “Vampires wilfully murder..." she reminded him as she stood. “I know...easy to forget.”

"Bruce!" he laughed abruptly, a cloud of smoke obscuring his face. "We have an ongoing interdepartmental investigation into two vampire murders, how could I possibly forget?" Bal's eyes glimmered with good humour in spite of the grim subject. "And maybe you've forgotten but I have to lead one of those  two investigating departments."

In Beasts, they largely worked with two on cases of public disruption and illegal trade. He had been surprised by the case volume - and violence - involved in Ceph's division. Werewolves were expected but his younger colleague dealt with more than he let on.

"If you're that worried," Balfour smiled up at the witch, "I promise I'll tread carefully. But you don't have to worry Bruce," he added. "That's my job."

Balfour was now laughing. Laughing as he pointed out the two vampire murder cases that she very well knew about.
“No shit, Nostradamus.” she rolled her eyes, when he pointed out he now led one of those departments. If he was so keenly aware of the murders, why would he so blithely suggest the proposal of legalised feedings? Iona had spent many a night in the past week awake imagining the worst for her wayward daughter. Now she found herself wondering how many witches and wizards out there like Waverly there were. Legalising this would create a nightmare, with the thrill-seeking youth eager to offer themselves up and get themselves in a whole world of mess and disaster.

“I’m not worried for me, Balfour, and I don’t need you to, either.” The witch said with a frown and shake of her head. She was more than capable of taking care of herself, and if not, Zora was still having to act as a glorified body guard. right now, Bruce really wasn’t sure what the wizard had read into this situation. “Let’s just say that I have some idea of what damage this could cause.”

For the life of him, he couldn't understand why Bruce was still pushing this. Did she have some manner of history with vampires?

            "Let’s just say that I have some idea of what damage this could cause.”

"You know who else does?" he stubbed out his cigarette, frowning a little. "Cepheus. It's sort of his job so unless you're willing to share this newfound expertise on vampires, why don't you just let sleeping dogs lie?" Bal reached for his tea - enchanted to keep warm - and gestured with it towards his office door.

This was getting ridiculous. "I would rather take my cue from someone who knows what they're talking about, professionally, Bruce. You'd lose your head if Fournier stayed behind to tell me your proposals were putting people in danger."

What was certain was that no, Bruce was not willing to share. Her finger nails started to dig into the wolf head handle of her cane as her new boss gestured for her to make her exit. Maybe she’d said too much. Maybe she’d been too forward in this. Clearly, her opinion wasn’t going to be listened to regardless. Splinters had the only opinion that mattered. This was why she’d never wanted to rise any further in the ranks than the Head of the WCU. In the past, Bruce had been able to get away with speaking her mind and standing her ground on certain work issues. She’d agreed to come back under Carter. Would Carter have pushed this through? Would he have shot down her concerns?

At Balfour’s suggestion that she had no idea professionally, Iona drew a deep breath. She’d worked on Level 4 for 22 years before her accident and, while not working directly with vampires, she’d certainly been privy to a lot in that time.

“You'd lose your head if…”

Bruce blinked, looking a little taken aback. Why she would lose her head, she wanted to know. Was it because of her moon light condition or the fact she was a witch? Standing her ground and stating her concern was certainly not a sign that she’d lose her head if she received similar criticisms.

“Don’t make that assumption.” He really didn’t know her. He only had to ask anyone that had worked with her in the WCU to know she was not the losing your head type. Well, unless her family were in danger.

“I would hear him out, which Gamp was more than welcome to stay and do.” They were definitely done here. “I hadn’t realised that my not being a member of the beings division forbade me from sharing an opinion or concern. My mistake, boss.” Her mistake, indeed.

Turning on her heel, Bruce made her way out of the office with the click click click of her wooden cane on the ground.

For a witch who made a lot of assumptions about his stance on vampires, Bruce really didn't like having the favour returned. He sighed as she turned and left his office - there was no point arguing with her, she was never going to leave in a good mood. But the entire conversation had piqued his curiousity and before the door could close behind the witch, Balfour gestured at Mrs Lanningham who was sat at the desk outside.

            "Sir?" his secretary appeared at the doorway, her notepad and quill in hand, looking over her spectacles critically.

"Do me a favour," he finished his tea and got up to stretch his arms back with a pleasurable hum. "Keep an eye on Ballentyne, won't you?"
               "Anything specific to watch out for?" Lanningham scribbled something down.

Balfour shook his head as he walked over to the great map on his office wall, removing his reading glass. "Vampires, maybe. They've got her back up over something."

Because there was one trait he could rely on when it came to old Bruce: she didn't care about anything like this unless it affected her; just like how werewolf comfort hadn't been a priority until she got turned into one. He could leave Mrs L to dig up relevant information, if there was any. There were other things that needed his attention now.