Tick. Tick. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tick. Tick…

Gray eyes slid with the cadence of the grandfather clock nestled in a corner as an oxymoron inside the Head of Law Enforcement office. The large hand indicated that it was a quarter to nine and three quarters past when Belisario had agreed to meet with her. The same agreed time as it had been the week before. And the week before that. And the week before that. And every week prior for the past four years. He had yet to ever arrive on time. But very rarely was he ever this belated.  Her gaze shifted upward, past the roman numerals spread in even intervals across the face of the clock until they settled on a very different set of symbols. A long brass hand was positioned on the image that represented “home,” as it had for the previous forty-five minutes.

Impossible man.

This meeting was their agreement. For whatever extent of time it took, the Head of Law Enforcement was hers on Monday evenings. During that time, the itinerary for the seven day episode was established. What needed to be discussed in concerns to her division was discussed. Anything that was in dire need of both their signatures was signed. Any point that the other disliked was promptly ignored, but at least the points were made. Often enough she had told Belisario that this correspondence was one of the staple reasons she remained employed under him. Which was not very true.  She would not give up her career for anything else in the world. Belisario knew Raynor would not turn in her badge as much as Raynor knew that the man would never take it from her. Though there had been times when blasting the man into oblivion had seemed like an excellent alternative.

As it seemed right now.

Regrettably, the Head Auror had already gone through her anger phase – about fifteen minutes ago. There had been a considerable amount of talent cursing and grumblings and her face had done that brilliant display where it turned every color between red and purple. Now the temper had settled into a dull simmer and she was settling for shooting baleful glares at the clock as if its contradictive presence was somehow its fault.

It was now ten until nine and had left Raynor’s patience behind about twenty minutes ago. It was a new record for him. Part of Tamis tingled with a tinge of worry, but the vast majority of her was thoroughly annoyed. It was late. She was hungry. And unlike some people she had been working all day. She was tired. Adding aggravation to the mix produced grumpy results. He was not coming. And make no mistakes, he would hear about it in the morning. Whether he showed or not.

Just as she stood and reached for her coat the doorknob turned.

Late.  He was incredibly late.  And this time he truly did mean to be on time.  But just like most things, something always seemed to get in his way.  But regardless of the fact that Alex had a bad habit of attracting the worst of attention.  It didn't change the fact that Tamis was probably going to hex and curse him until there wasn't a sign that he was ever a thing that even remotely looked human.  One thing he never really enjoyed was making a woman, especially Tamis, wait.  Though perhaps it was because of his own self interest that made it so he didn't want to irritate Tamis too much.  Well, not too much at any rate.

He stood in front of the door for a bit before reaching for it.  Annoyed of himself he turned the doorknob and gathered himself, bringing about a calm before opening it.  He strolled in noticed her reaching for her coat, and said nothing as he moved towards his desk and seeing the stack of the days paperwork and reports.

"Sorry for the wait, I had a bit of a problem getting here..."

***

Alex was at his own tavern, the Burning Pot.  Which resided just a couple blocks from his apartment complex.  He'd have a couple shots of whiskey and then be on his way to his meeting with Tamis.  More than enough time to get there before even Tamis would show up for the meeting. 

"Hey there missy, want to have a good time," a voice on the other side of the room said.

Instinctively Alex could feel the type of emotions the man was emitting through his legelimens ability, which he had enough talent to pick up muggles emotions rather quickly.  Much easier against people with no magical ability.  He sensed the man's lust and desire for satisfaction.  And he sensed no restraint what so ever.

The only downside was that if it were anywhere else he could have easily ignored it and gone on with his night not caring.  But this was his establishment and knew that his waitress, Eliane, wasn't strong enough to pull away from the grip the man now had on her.  And there was more than just the one man.  Without looking he counted four others, five total.  All of which seemed to be following the one man's lead.

"Get your hands off me!  Frank!" Elaine yelled.

Frank was the current one running the place and had been talking to Alex.  He reached for the phone but Alex reached over and stopped him.  Looking at the clock, he had plenty of time.  "You know the drill Frank."

Alex got to his feet and walked over, he reached out to Elaine who eagerly took it and pulled her up but the other man didn't let go.  "You have three seconds to let go of her hand."

"Who the hell do you think you are?  This girly is just going to have a good time.  I'm always a perfect gentlemen to the ladies..."

"Times up,"  Alex reached over pinching a nerve and instantly making him let go of Elaine and pushed his drunken self back into the booth.  The man managed to springboard himself back up and threw a fist at Alex, barely moving he leaned back and met the man in the gut with a knee.  Making the man fall to the floor, the other four rose from the table.  Obviously angry about their leaders quick defeat.  "I don't remember ever allowing trash into my establishment.  I may have to talk to my bouncer."

"Who the hell do you think you are," one seemed brave enough to speak.

"I'm the owner, and consider yourselves lucky.  I'm giving you the opportunity to leave with your friend and not be called in by the police for harassment and attempted assault.  Feel free to try your luck though, considering how much you've all had to drink, this isn't even worth my time," Alex could sense their thoughts turn to anger as he spoke, but there was a tinge of panic in one of them.  Perhaps it was because of the stare that he was giving them, how calm he was.  There was little that could ever shake Alex, not after the life he had led.  And nothing would ever erase the things he saw in his past.

The men scrambled and picked up their friend and made a quick escape out the door.  Alex turned to Elaine who had been clinging to him ever since he had helped her.  She looked as if she had a similar experience before.  "Frank, give me my drink will ya?"

Frank came over as Alex sat Elaine down at the table.  Taking the drink he handed it to her, "Just don't make a habit of it."  He said to her with a wink.

She downed the shot and after a moment shook her head and smiled.  "Your the best boss ever."  Elaine gave him a hug.

"And you didn't even break anything this time," Frank joked.

"Kinda sad isn't it?" Alex laughed as Elaine broke from him.  He looked back at the clock checking the time.  His eyes got big as he realized the time.  "Bloody  hell, those jerks wasted too much of my time.  Ms. Raynor is going to kill me.  Sorry you two, have to go.  Call the police if they show up again.  Later!"

Alex took off in a mad dash out the door of his tavern.  "Why...why does this kinda crap always happen?!"

***

There was no point in explaining the whole story of why he was late, and regardless of if he did have a reasonable excuse.  Excuses were just that, an excuse.  Aside considering he knew her enough to realize she had been waiting...and most likely not very patiently for quite some time now.  Trying to justify his late showing would most likely make her retaliate with a jinx...or perhaps switch to her animagus form and bite his leg.  God knows he freaked whenever he saw a golden retriever, thinking it might just be Tamis.

"Lets get started then, how goes the trainee's?"  Alex would move right to business that hopefully would avoid any  wand use in his direction.

Her fingers just brushed across the wool fibers of her overcoat when the dormant door suddenly sprang to life. Straightening, she left one hand flat against the smooth surface as if half considering still leaving. More than half considering. His demeanor was complete nonchalance. As if the man had strolled into a cordial dinner party as opposed to sauntering into an official meeting an hour late. Official. It was the only word the currently saved Belisario. She did not rant. She did not shout. Her expression did not leave its mask of cool composure (though one might argue there was a purple pigment to its complexion). Instead, she simply stared at the man. 

Technically, because they were here in the capacity of their vocation, he was her superior in all professional respects. Technically, any display could be considered an act of insubordination. Technically that meant that he did not need justification. But technicality did not stop Raynor from silently fuming. It did, however, force her to swallow the more animate display that animosity was encouraging. Not an easy feat by any means and one she would not have mastered a decade ago.  If “mastered” is what you would call they way her nostrils discretely flared. Or the way she kept her wand hand clenched to keep it from doing something that the government might frown on. Though skillful paperwork could clear it up. She had become involuntarily good at paperwork.

"Sorry for the wait, I had a bit of a problem getting here..."

Oh, she was sure. He had probably lost track of time drinking his way through a pub. Raynor had a certain adherence to alcohol. She had been in the Healer industry long enough to know it made fools out of even the best men. And the Department Head managed that often enough without its influence.  He frequented those establishments too often, in her opinion. There were other, healthier, ways of forgetting one’s woes. But Raynor said nothing. After all, his personal life was not her business. She had spent the last fourteen years trying to forget that their personal lives had any relevance to each other at all.

In truth, she should not be this annoyed. If this had been the same scenario with MacDonell she would not have been. There would have been irritation when he finally arrived, but she would have made some sarcastic remark, been given the same favor, and all would be well. Not that this situation was very relevant with her old predecessor, but point still made. Even the slightest nuisances that she might have normally overlooked aggravated her when committed by Belisario. She blamed it on the need to protect herself, to maintain a barrier. There were some people just better left forgotten. 

"Lets get started then, how goes the trainees?"

The woman had yet to resume her former seat. Her expression still belied nothing as she finally responded to him.

“They are usually punctual.” 

Certainly the man had enough to come up with a good reason as to his late entry, or any amount of reasons.  Hell, during the 2nd Rise, most Aurors never checked in.  Or rather they had never clocked out.  Things got rather informal in a crisis such as that, and things got lost in the shuffle.  And looking at her brought to him a memory of something that he had done to intentionally get lost in that proverbial shuffle.  Still, he was the Head of the Department and never knew if he hated or enjoyed the job.  Though seeing the looks on Tamis face made him wonder if he didn't show up late just to see a reaction.  She was a work-a-holic, just like he was.  Okay, not just like him as he left things to a later time that better suited him.  Including this meeting.

It was rather rude of him to have a meeting so late when Tamis had been working the whole day.  But this had been an agreement of sorts.  She got his time for any buisness that needed to be dealt with and also updates on anything coming up.  He did a quick flip through the stack of work on his desk to see if anything caught his attention, and immediately went to a folder.  Pulling it out he spread out a report about increased criminal activity.  This written by his own daughter Ciarra. 

“They are usually punctual.”

"Always has been," Alex said as more of a whisper, referencing more to his daughter than the trainee's as a whole.  He did a quick glance through the report.  "Quite."  This time speaking loud enough for Tamis to hear.

Of course he had noticed it as well.  Just yesterday he had been out with Jason and Aurora MacDonell, and he expressed his...bad feeling.  His hunches were usually right, and things were happening much too close to Remembering day than he liked.  That alone sent off alarms in his mind.  He wondered how Tamis felt...perhaps he should test those waters first.  This was an important meeting.  They needed to go over the security detail for Remembering, and if he recalled would be having a meeting with Headmaster Greyfriar later on in the week.

"Give me the highlights of last week.  Any new developments I should be made aware of?"  It was a generalized question, and a typical question he asked to begin their meetings.  Tamis had the sharpest eyes and ears that Alex knew.  If anyone was going to notice anything, it would be her.  It was something he admired about her.  Her attention to detail was what the department needed.  Granted he got in the way of it sometimes, but that was a different issue.

”Quite.”

That earned a small, indignant sniff. Barely larger than an exhalation of air. He did not rise to the non-discrete bait hidden in her response. Not that she had expected him to. Instead he thumbed through the neatly organized manila folders as if it wasn’t a foreign practice. That was not particularly fair. His signature did have this peculiar habit of materializing on her desk in the morning. But it allocated her to fuel an underlying distaste for the man. It made sure that the barriers between the woman she had become and the woman that she used to be remained firmly intact. It was simply easier to be detached, to shroud herself in cool, professional objectivity.  It kept her from having to return to a door she had slammed closed on her emotions long ago; a door that she desperately needed to keep locked.

So she glowered because she had nothing to glower about.

Her eyes studied the slips of parchment as he displayed them. Various reports that had passed through Tamis’ hands at some point as well. The one he selected flashed “Belisario” at the top. The one Ciarra had recently filed. It had crossed her own mind when she had first read it. Old paranoia of a mind that had survived war and never quite recovered from it. The corner of the woman’s lip twitched uneasily. Not because of the context but because of the girl. She would have to bring that point up eventually, but not until it was absolutely imperative.

As the prelude to the meeting began, Raynor shifted her stance, but as of yet still refrained from sitting. She wasn’t ready to concede that battle just yet.

“As I recall, the amount of airborne parchment increased by three percent this week from last and Madam Bloxam’s kneazle was stuck in a tree again,” she replied with faux severity, the corners of her lips turning down.  There was no doubt that the Office was slow, and had been slow, for a number of years now.  To be reduced in the public eye to mere police, however, was beyond demeaning. Madam Bloxam seemed to believe (on a regular basis) that their service to the people now included rescuing her cat.

Again, she considered bringing up her opinions about a certain trainee and again she refrained. She would wait until near the end of the meeting. That way she could escape in a half dignified fashion if she needed to. Her gaze fell to the report he had pulled out again.

“Kingstreet’s trial approaches, I daresay you already know about that. It’s making the older boys antsy and the younger ones curious.  It’s making me nervous,” she admitted, unfolding one of her arms long enough to flourish at the documents. “I doubt the two are interrelated but the increase in common misdemeanors are suggesting a rise in criminal activity as Miss Belisario correctly indicates. The fact that both are correlated – it is no doubt coincidence. There hasn’t been a trial of this degree in a while and it is most likely that the average criminals are getting a boost of adrenalin from it. But I don’t like it.” 

Her eyes grew distant for a moment as she considered the pending trial. There was a lot of anger and unease buzzing around the Ministry in regards to that. The careful observer would note that Raynor was not a part of it. Whenever the conversation turned to the ex-lawyer, Tamis became nothing more than a polite participate in the conversation – if she participated at all. There was no need to add fuel to an already blazing fire.

There was a lot he didn't really care about himself.  The fact that he often avoided peoples feelings or anything that might make him get closer to someone.  It just made him look uncaring and maybe pig headed.  But what got to him was that he didn't seem to care.  But he didn't believe that...it was just too easy to separate himself from his work.  More like he was avoiding his own thoughts and feelings.  Ever since he had fought the Dark Wizard Xian so many years ago.  He couldn't help but remember how easily Xian had penetrated his thoughts, predicting his movements and matching him step for step.  A long winded battle...he hadn't been ready.  He remembered the frustration, vulnerability, and fear.  After that he never felt quite right.  But the critical blow came when Ariella died.  His heart had been completely closed off since then. 

Ciarra...his one and only daughter.  Most would have bonded to their child and raised them alone.  Alex, hired someone else to do it.  Yeah, what a great person he was.  Perhaps why he never cared to be complimented or rewarded.  In his eyes, he was just a man that hid in his work. 

His eyes wandered only for a moment as Tamis began talking about things that had happened during the week.  He noticed things had started to increase with Kingstreet's hearing happening so soon.  And in was almost insulting in a way when the most his department was doing was fetching kneazle's out of tree's.  Every single one of the Auror's in his department had a minimal of 3 years of training, plus continued to improve and learn after that.  And they had been reduced to fetching a kneazle, simply because Madam Bloxam couldn't use her own damn wand.  Maybe she wanted to gawk at his male Auror's and Hitwizards.  Heh, his men had only become eye candy, poster boys of justice.

"There hasn’t been a trial of this degree in a while and it is most likely that the average criminals are getting a boost of adrenalin from it. But I don’t like it.”

Of course he didn't like it either.  Someone of real charisma could definitely use the trial as a stepping stone, even if by some way Kingstreet wasn't set free.  But no matter the outcome, Alex had to make sure that his department would stay on top of it, and that criminal morale did not rise.  Most of them had gone to live quietly and staying off the grid.  They had a number of them that had pulled a disappearing act.  But if someone started organizing them, and they had the right motivation and pull...it would lead to quite a problem.

"It worries me as well.  Our concentration has to remain on the hearing.  Kingstreet is insisting to represent herself, just as we suspected.  She is sharp and knows how to turn things her way.  And we are going to have to keep two steps ahead," he sighed and got up, looking at Tamis for a long moment before diverting his attention to his book shelf and moved to it.   He thought as he absentmindedly thumbed one of the hardcover books on the shelf.  "She will be released."

He turned back to Tamis, "With so many of the press that will be in attendance it is going to turn into a different kind of game.  It will be less about Kingstreet's release and more about public opinion.  The hearing is nothing but a political game.  The wizengamot doesn't have a choice, they'll have no choice but to release her."  He shook his head for a moment, and gave a short laugh.  "You see, if the Wizengamot put her back into Azkaban, then that will infuriate people, saying that the Ministry is afraid, unwilling to look beyond the past.  It could potentially rally criminals, perhaps even bring out some of our more dangerous ones from hiding.  At the same time, Kingstreet's release could bring criminal's together as well.  Though maybe if we are lucky maybe Kingstreet just wants to have a peaceful life and in a month this can be just discounted as ramblings of a paranoid man."

Alex walked over and opened a door to a dresser and his pensieve appeared from out of it.  "If Kingstreet does have intentions to be a pain in my life again, then no matter what the outcome, she has already made the first move."  He looked at the many bottles that held memories in them.  Only a handful were actually his, and others from witnesses or victims of crimes. 

"Tamis, I'll need you to double the amount of hitwitch and hitwizards on security detail for the hearing.  I'll also need a set of eyes," he said as he pondered a bit more.  The tone in his voice dropped to something much lighter than usual and in a half whisper, but Tamis would be able to easily hear him.  "I really hope I'm wrong, but the hearing might be a very important day for all of us.  Though we may not know why for some time to come."

There was not even a flutter in Raynor’s composure as Belisario made some bold predictions about the future. Knowing him, it was more reliable than a Seer. The man had hunches like the Department of Mysteries had prophecies. And there was a considerable chance that he actually knew this information for fact. The ex-Auror never quite gave up the tendencies that complimented the profession; he treated life like a chess game that it depended on staying four moves ahead of. It was commendable and made him a better politician than he credited himself for. And, it was a constant aggravation to his Head of Aurors. He never seemed to trust her enough to divulge. She was not sure what was more irritating. The fact that he didn’t divulge. Or the fact that he didn’t trust her.

He locked his gave on her for an uncomfortably long moment. Raynor subconsciously shifted her position defensively. This was going to be a serious conversation then. It was rare for a man that brushed most concerns off as trivial hogwash to suddenly approach a conversation with such a heavy air. So, the woman allowed him is monologue. Maintaining silent, she listened to what he had to say, nodding at the appropriate moments. What he proposed collaborated with rational deduction. But again, she held her tongue on her unconventional considerations about Kingstreet’s release. Her uncertainties as to which side she was on in concern to it.

“ "Tamis, I'll need you to double the amount of hitwitch and hitwizards on security detail for the hearing.  I'll also need a set of eyes.”

She shifted in surprise.

“I can give you both,” she said without hesitation. Her expression was doing enough of the questioning for her. He was taking this seriously. Very serious. 

Her gray eyes locked wearily on the pensieve he had pulled. What in the name of Merlin was the man doing? A tremble of alarm ran through her when she realized he might be about to reveal some detail of his personal life. She had not the slightest idea for the motivation as to why (a memory about Kingstreet, perhaps), but she suddenly knew that she did not want to be near that thing. She did not know what the memory would contain but she knew what (or rather who) she did not want it to include.

“ "I really hope I'm wrong, but the hearing might be a very important day for all of us.  Though we may not know why for some time to come."

That was delivered a bit more dramatically than she thought she could stand.

“Sir, if I may,” she began, gray eyes never straying from the similar colored liquid in the bowl. “Get a hold of yourself. You speak as if Kingstreet is as large of a threat as You-Know-Who was himself. I was not aware that a half-crazed paper-pusher could terrify you so.” Not that she was underplaying the possible threat the woman held. His stance on the issue was actually considerably appropriate. But he sounded like a whipped puppy consigning to the fact that his future was doomed to a life of crate training. And, damn him, that annoyed her to no end.

Scowling, she lifted her gray gaze to meet his more vibrant blue. “She is a washed up politician demented by the trials of Azkaban. You are a renowned, distinguished member of society with enough power and influence to handle yesterday’s prime lawyer. You’re the one that knocked her down.” She snorted, lifting her chin slightly. “And if it stirs trouble, then we will shake it. It is not something that we cannot handle.”

The ramifications and possible interpretations of her words ricocheted back at her. She uncharacteristically fidgeted. Awkward was an understatement. “We, as in the Ministry of Magic.” She clarified, enunciating slowly.

Tamis was one of the few people in the world that he had a semblance of comfort around.  Though he would never show or admit it.  After all there was a large wall between the two of them, except when it came to work.  When needed the two could work quite closely together and not think twice about it.  Well sometimes Alex did...but he put that thought under lock and key and about 200 feet under ground.  At the moment his thoughts were consumed on ways to up stage Kingstreet on whatever moves she might make in the hearing.  But there was only a small amount of variables in the court that he could control.  And so he would have to do just that.

He stared into the pensieve for a long time, unsure of precisely why he had come over and opened it.  Curious he ran his hands along the different memories.  His hand stopped in front of his.  It was labeled Operation "Justice".  Staring at it for a moment, the name was almost inappropriate for what had happened there.  Though he and his partner Marcus were able to deliver justice by the end.  Vivid images came to his mind about the blood, mayhem and the horrible experiences done on the dead soldiers of that awful conflict.  It wasn't something he had ever truly gotten over.  He had adapted and was able to cope at the time.  But he would never forget the type of things that Dark Wizards were capable of.

The thing about that assignment was how Kingstreet had been a key ally in putting all of them behind bars.  She helped deal with all the paperwork back home, while they stayed on the hunt in the IRA conflict.  It had been a hellish time.  Everyone had heard of some of the things he had done there, but not all of it.  He shook his head and closed the dresser, turning back to Tamis.

“And if it stirs trouble, then we will shake it. It is not something that we cannot handle.  We, as in the Ministry of Magic.”

Tamis had corrected herself after realizing how he could have interpreted it.  But he couldn't help but want to smile at the thought of it.  Because in all honesty it would be up to them, not anyone else in the Ministry.  And if something did happen, he would have to start divulging everything to Tamis in an effort to prepare her.  If the worst case scenario were to happen, that meant there was a chance Alex could be assassinated.  It was, after all, a possibility.  And he needed to have all bases covered.

"Tamis," using her first name again, something he typically put effort into not doing.  But all of this was personal to him.  He wanted to get across just how important it all was.  "I have the upmost confidence in our abilities.  Frankly, I'm concerned that if something does happen we will lose confidence and support from the rest of the Ministry.  As for Kingstreet..."

He sighed and moved back to his desk, sitting on the edge of it while looking at Tamis, "She was one of my greatest allies in my career.  So when I first suspected her of being a traitor, I didn't want to believe it.  Kingstreet is capable of swaying the people, and was very good and sweet talking the wizengamot.  She was able to add ten or more years to dark wizard sentences that any other lawyer would call absurd.  I can't even count the times she helped me.  So when I learned of what she was doing...when I had the proof in hand.  I don't think I ever felt that way before.  And hope I never do again.  If you ever wanted to know why I keep so much to myself, it is the main reason."

"I may just be over doing this, but in that time frame, we never investigated as to why she did it.  We only knew what she did, not the motivation.  And we never found out.  By the time we had thought about finding out, the trail had gone cold and Kingstreet was in Azkaban and not likely to ever just divulge that information.  The fact that we never determined her motivation isn't good.  Its a wild card.  Because I was so emotionally involved in that investigation I forgot the basics.  So now its coming to bite me back.  So we have no idea what she plans to do."

"By herself, Kingstreet is not a big threat.  What worries me, is the people she can gather.  She is a highly charismatic woman.  And in the hearing we will see if her time has dulled her ability to move people.  I suppose we can with hold further discussion about her case until after the hearing.  But take note of the subtle ways she will attempt to affect not only the wizengamot, but everyone that is watching.  After the hearing we will have a better idea if there is reason to worry."

He sighed again, "I apologize, Tamis.  The next couple weeks I will be watched by the Prophet and other news reporters more than usual.  They are expecting me to be the biggest threat against her release.  I can't afford to slip up.  I'm counting on you."  Alex confided in Tamis.  It was the first time he had ever fully expressed his worries about something.  Looking away from her, he looked down at the object that had his name.  Alexander Belisario, Head of Magical Law Enforcement.  He never saw himself here, but he was and playing a very political game.  It wasn't until recently that he realized that just how hard it was to keep up the reputation of his department and save face when needed.  It was a hard balancing act and only managable thanks to Tamis.

Just like Aurora and Jason had pointed out to him just yesterday, he was lucky to have her. 

A wave of relief rushed through Tamis Raynor as the pensieve returned from whence it came. He might have been intending to reveal something to her for pure professional purposes. There was an even larger probability that the memory he would have revealed would not have been one of his own. It should not have mattered. But it did. It seemed too… intimate.

Speaking of intimacy.

“Tamis.”

Her eyes lifted back up to meet his on command, attempting to appear unaffected at the use of her first name. She could count the total of people that had the lawful right to do that on one hand. She was not the kind of person that would ever fear the need to start counting on her other hand. At one time, he had been a part of the list, but not for many years now. To say she was oblivious to the increase of its verbalization from his mouth in recent months would be the equivalent of dubbing a Hungarian Horntail domesticated. Usually, she could still withhold denial respectably.

Not tonight. There was too much depth to the two syllables. Well, if it was her undivided attention he had been after, he got it.

And thus began the second monologue.

Very little ever seemed to disturb the Head Auror.  Anger? Yes. Irritate? Yes. Make her wish she was aware of appropriate conduct by society’s standards? Yes. Actually startle? No.  He, she would admit without reserve startled her. It was not the facts themselves; she had summarized most of the details on her own. It was in the fact that he was admitting to them. The man was truly concerned. It concerned her. There was no such thing as absolute peace. Conflict made the world turn. Raynor could accept the fact. Perhaps, the possibility of losing peace did not bother her as intensely was due to her never having allowed herself to believe it existed. If there could be an absence of evil there would be no need for Aurors.

She had never been very good at offering comfort. But perhaps she could make an exception.

“Making sure you don’t make idiots out of the rest of us seems to have become an inherent part of my job description, Alexander.” She smirked slightly. “I’m too particular to allow you to start slipping now.”

It was her turn to exemplify familiarity.

She allowed for a long pause. Ignoring the unease in the air. Then, we she believed she had allowed them to dwell on the statement long enough, “are there any other adjustments to the arrangements to the Trial of Theodora Kingstreet that I should be made aware of, Sir?”

The distinction between the two forms of address was clear enough. The man had confined in her, a fact she took in silent pride, but there was no sense in forcing him to dwell on what he perceived as a weakness.  So, she returned to a mode they were both comfortable with as if the confidence had never occurred. They did, after all, have a job to do. She would make sure he did not fall.

“Making sure you don’t make idiots out of the rest of us seems to have become an inherent part of my job description, Alexander.” She smirked slightly. “I’m too particular to allow you to start slipping now.”

If it was rare for him to say her first name, than it was even more so when it came to Tamis saying his.  He could remember years ago how they had been more friends but after what happened, that didn't last.  Alex wondered if the two would ever be able to actually be friends again.  Instead of how their current relationship was.  Pretty much the only way he even saw anything out of her was by acting the way he did.  By somewhat neglecting his paperwork, and everything else he did, he did manage to see something.  This was what he told himself though.  Alex, however, knew that in order for things to improve he would have to be one hundred percent honest with her.  That would mean revealing some of his actions that he had taken.  Especially one that concerned Tamis, but Alex kept that a secret, along with Aurora MacDonell. 

There was a long pause, as her words sunk into him.  Alex knew that he would not be nearly as effective if he didn't have her behind him.  It was only because of her that the two of them had managed to avoid any budget cuts for their department.  But he had a feeling that it wouldn't be a problem in the near future.

“Are there any other adjustments to the arrangements to the Trial of Theodora Kingstreet that I should be made aware of, Sir?”

He looked at her for a moment, "No, if I change things too much than it will be too noticeable.  I can't afford for any of the other departments know how..."  He stopped himself and shook his head.  "Be as discreet as you can.  I'm still not sure of how open I can be about my actions.  Luckily most of the media's attention is on the upcoming Remembering Day.  I apologize for the manner I've conducted myself this meeting.  I've not been sleeping well."  He sighed and looked over to his shelf.  To be honest he had been having nightmares for the last week.  It was part of the reason he had been so cautious and on edge as of late.

"Nevermind that, have you anything else to report, Miss Raynor?" he said dropping back into his business mode.  It was almost too easy to do so.

Nonsense. She scoffed at the offered apology – whether for the sake of professionalism or not. Men. They were always apologizing for all the wrong things. Avoiding her with a lethifold’s stealth? No. Somehow miraculously catching a twenty-four hour flu when the big-wigs were on the prowl?  Of course not.  Testing every ounce of her rather short stocked (no pun intended) patience? Never crosses his mind. But, for the briefest moment allowing her to know what was going on in that head of his? Naturally that called for absolute contrition.

Patience was not a particularly prevalent attribute of Tamis Raynor’s character. While she was considerably talented at beating around the bush, she preferred not to. She found you could expedite results when you simply harried for it. That was often most effective with subordinates and civilians. But politicians – even the reluctant ones? An entirely different species. They usually required more subtlety. It was a personal affront to Raynor’s sanity that her superiors had a trend of being secretive and difficult men.

So, when he commended on his lack of proper sleeping habits, she gave him the most reproachful look humanly possible, successful conveying disapproval and concern without uttering a word. This was, of course, carefully schooled from her expression before he looked away from his bookshelf. Where the pensieve was once again nestled safely away. And would hopefully stay that way.

”Have you anything else to report, Miss Raynor?"

Tamis did her best not to cringe. She was not particularly fond of the “miss” prefix. It made her feel like a school girl. Not to mention it rubbed her marital status right under her nose. While pureblood customs were becoming less and less observed, Raynor had been born at a time where they had still been critically upheld. While she had no intentions of eloping and settling down, she did not need reminding that she was past her prime courting age. She swore her mother turned in her grave with every “miss” appellation.

“Nothing in concerns to national security.” A very hesitant pause. “As you are aware, the trainee annual assessments will begin this July.” In July, an auror trainee underwent a procedural check point to ensure that necessary skills were learned before advancing to the next year of training in the program. It was unheard of for a trainee to flunk it. Therefore, most became full-fledged aurors the following September after their third assessment.

“I am confident in all of our trainees…” Get a grip, woman. Might as well just spit it out. “… however, I would like to hold Ciarra Belisario back a year.” Mentioning his daughter was a taboo she avoided. But, she tried to remain indifferent through the explanation – and not let on that her now clasped palms were sweating. “She is an upstanding potential in every aspect. Punctual. Dedicated. Motivated. However, she can be her worst critical, and, in my opinion, is afraid of failure.” She did not, however, mention failure of what, or rather, whom. “That can be a dangerous trait in an Auror.  In her special case, for her to succeed, I believe she needs to fail first. Or she might never overcome the fear of it.”

The Head Auror never asked permission when it came to her Aurors. Never. If she believed a certain course of action needed to be taken, she simply did it, and if Belisario or the Minister did not like it, she dealt with it then. But it was so against protocol that she felt she had no choice. 

When the subject changed, he wasn't sure if he cared for it, but it was better than the way things had been earlier.  He had been thinking too much on the Kingstreet case, but he was sure he had more than enough reason to worry about it.  And he would have even more reason to worry as time went on.  He was sure of that.

“That can be a dangerous trait in an Auror.  In her special case, for her to succeed, I believe she needs to fail first. Or she might never overcome the fear of it.”

He sighed, one of the last things he ever cared to hear about was hear about his daughter.  Okay, that wasn't true.  He had always paid attention to Ciarra and the things she did, but never talked about it or even admitted it to anyone.  What kind of person was he?  After all he was the one who had abandoned his daughters life.  He basically handed her over to someone else.  If anything Talon and Bianca had more right to say she was their daughter than he was to claim her as her own.

So his eyebrow twitched a bit as he realized where the conversation was going.  So his daughter was afraid of failure?  Yeah, he had a few good ideas on why that was.  And it had everything to do with him, and how he never seemed to give her attention.  So yeah it was all his fault for being such a bad Father.  So Tamis as a result wanted to hold her back as a means to teach her a lesson?  Yeah, that sounded like something that needed to happen.  And he even understood why she had brought it up.  It wasn't something that typically happened so she would have to report it to him.

He sighed looking back at Tamis for a long moment.  Then he looked at a lone photo that occupied his desk.  A picture of his deceased wife and a very young Ciarra.  "I'll leave the decision to you.  A Father that hires someone to raise his daughter instead of doing it himself has no right to have any stake in her life."  Suddenly angry he continued to look at the photo.  How angry would Ariella be at him if she saw what he was like?  What he had done...How he just left their daughter to someone else...and why?  Because Ciarra looked so much like Ariella...and he couldn't handle it.  He was just a coward. 

"If there isn't anything else I have work to get too," he said pulling the stack of papers and opening a folder.  "I'm sorry, Ms. Raynor.  Even if it is my job, I can't decide anything to do with Ciarra.  If you feel like having another opinion, I suggest talking to Marcus.  He knows her more than I."  He fell into a business tone for his last comment before beginning to sort through his work he had in front of him.

The casualties of war extended far beyond the lives lost during the strife. Those losses were the most taxing; it was often the innocent and the worthy that paid the price in blood. But the cost of war was not only weighed in pounds of flesh. In many ways, the deceased were lucky. They escaped with something their survivors paid for dearly: their soul. To win a war, every means possible was often utilized. It was a fact that Tamis had struggled with in the early years of her career. And those that survived it had to learn to live with the aftermath; they had to live with the fact that they had buried love ones, with the tragedies they had seen, and they had to live with the things they had done. To some, death was more merciful. That unspoken cost lurked in the gaze of every individual that was old enough to remember the Second War – and even the First. 

Families were torn apart. Tamis knew that one first hand. Old friends and comrades had been lost. As well as life partners. There were two men she knew personally that had become single fathers due to the conflict. One was sitting in front of her and the other had a fascination for Dragons and the French Alps. The differences in how they coped were intellectually curious. The similarities were heart wrenching.

And currently aggravating.

A part of her disapproved of the man’s inability to separate his personal life from his professional one. Another part of her was angry at the fact that he was running away from the root of his issues. She knew what type of man he was, and knew that he had more inner strength than even he gave himself credit for. But, more irritating was the overwhelming acceptance of his decision. For, how was his treatment of Ciarra any different than the way she treated him?

“If there isn't anything else I have work to get to.”

She understood the comment for what it was; dismissal. He was retreating back into himself again. It was why he ate alone, why he turned to alcohol for comfort, and why he came into work late at night alone. So, she accepted the dismissal, mainly as there was nothing else to discuss about her division, but partly because she could not handle the underlying emotions now perforating the room. Her hand grazed her coat.

“Even if it is my job, I can't decide anything to do with Ciarra.  If you feel like having another opinion, I suggest talking to Marcus.  He knows her more than I."

She did not respond right away. But when she did, it was uncharacteristically benign,

 “Sometimes, Alexander, we push away those we should be closest to.”

An observant individual might find the self-including ‘we’ of that statement significant. But Tamis had retreated into the infamous Auror mask as she finally lifted her coat, folding it carefully over one arm.

“Valerian,” she told him. “It will help you sleep. If you take it in your tea, don’t let it boil.”

She lingered in the doorway for a moment longer, as if she wanted to say something more. Instead, she shrugged into her coat and abandoned a lonely man to his solitary thoughts. They all had their demons.  She could not help him face his without being a hypocrite.