Africa was a far off place from London, but after over a month of prancing around the jungles, thickets, and plains it was practically a second home to her.  Originally she had visited to release the runespoor that had wreaked so much havoc on Diagon Alley—yes, she had managed to save it from the Disposal Committee even after causing all of those injuries—to its natural habitat.  Word had spread quickly that the DH of Britain's RCMC had landed on African soil, so quickly, in fact, that when she had returned to her hotel the day she released the serpent in Burkina Faso she found Luna and Rolf already waiting for her.

After all the salutations and welcomes had been dispensed Scamander wasted no time in enlisting Covadonga in one of his new adventures.  It was all great fun, though it kept her away from a reliable post.  The witch believed it may have been Rolf's doing, especially after she saw him yelling at one of the research assistants for speaking to his girlfriend about work.  Apparently everything they were disco—ah-hem, doing was supposed to be kept under wraps.  Everything was to be saved for the newest edition of Fantastic Beasts.

As such, the Department Head knew absolutely nothing of what had transpired while she was away.  Hence the reason why she was in Diagon now, not far from the scene of the crime, sitting outside a little cafe with a cup of tea in hand, waiting for a distinguished friend and colleague to get her up to speed, her new freckles standing out against her pale and tired skin.

October had not been a kind month to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. The fact that they still had to contend with the routine end of the month paperwork was simply cruel. It was pure and unadulterated torture for the woman that now, quite literally, had the weight of the largest Ministry Department on her shoulders – all of it in pounds of parchment. Part of her resented Gawain Roboards for falling susceptible to his assassination. Particularly for having done so during the month that housed All Hallows Eve the most notorious muggle baiting day of the year.   It was not as if the man had planned it but it had not made her life any easier and helped having a scapegoat to pin it on, since they were no closer to capturing the perpetrator than they had been earlier that month. Though they were slightly closer to understanding the bizarre rune incased skull symbol the perp had left then as a calling card.

She would be happier when the Powers that Be finally came to an agreement on the next political figurehead for the department. Sleep was a forgotten concept and she had not seen the outside of office since the night of the October Fourteenth. That had not exactly been an ideal vacation venture. The woman was running haggard, an observation Archer had pointed out on more than one occasion. It could not be helped. Until a decision was made, her responsibilities were increased.

Which included briefing the Department Head Covadonga Gertrudis on legal situations concerning her department since her… rather lengthy… absence. Tamis Raynor was not one to nose around in the affairs of other Departments. Inquisitive and attentive, she did not miss much, but made sure to notice only what she was supposed to. It preserved her political sanity. Yet, that did not stop her spiking curiosity when Covadonga had returned, suddenly out of the blue, inquiring if Tamis would like to join her for a cup of tea at lunch.

She had agreed, as obvious as she appeared in front of the small café, slipping into a seat across from the only slightly taller witch, cradling her own steaming teacup. They were a pair, Tamis was sure. Both looked as if they had run a marathon or lived a month without magic – and she was not sure if Covadonga’s coloration from the sun accentuated or deemphasized her tired complexion.

Again, she did not ask, but simply offered the Department Head a small polite backward tug of her lips.

She was not sure if she would exactly call the other woman a friend, but certainly more than an average acquaintance. After all, one could not drag the other woman into St. Mungos and nearly be deafened by her mermish shouts and not come out of it feeling a slightly more intimate, if not beneficial connection. It was difficult to believe that had been seven months ago.

“Re-acclimating well enough?” She asked as way of greeting.

Replying to the witch's grin with an equally enthusiastic grimace.  “Barely,” was her simple answer.  After all, she had been back in the country for just a couple hours.  In that short span of time, however, she had been able to read an article or two.

Before taking a gentle sip from her cup and recrossing her ankles she returned with, “It seems like you had hardly any time to acclimate yourself to the lovely month of October,” but she said no more than that.  Her information was from an unreliable source, meaning the Daily Prophet. 

It was no secret that Covadonga hated the press, though at least this time she knew she had a comrade in the writer Niobe Thursby.  Journalism was not what it used to be.  Everyone had an opinion, and the so called headlining reporters of the illustrious Prophet made theirs no mystery.  Except Niobe, she did exactly what her occupational title dictated, she simply reported what she observed.

“The months are becoming increasingly more delinquent as they progress,” the Auror agreed grimly with a mirthless compression of her lips. It seemed to be the case. The Office had begun to taboo anyone from saying that at least the next month had to be better than the one that had proceeded it – the powers that be would work that much harder to prove them wrong.

Raising her porcelain cup to her lips, Raynor scanned her surroundings in that lazy, nonchalant manner that someone accustomed to dealing with personnel from level two knew was anything but casual. Some quirks were just universal to a particular class of individuals. It was not often that she took leave for lunch and she had to convince her protective detail that since she was going to be in a very public location with an equally competent witch that he should enjoy his own lunch instead of them both suffering the politics. He had not looked happy but he had at least had the decency to be grateful.

 “You should have come back two weeks earlier. You could have enjoyed some of the excitement,” she offered, gaze resting back on the Department Head once she was confident that no one was eavesdropping on the conversation. It would be tempting. Two rather recognizable Ministry faces casually enjoying a cup during the largest crisis in more than a decade, with their feet dangling a foot off the ground. “The Runespoor smuggling operation seems to have turned from eggs to venom. Two weeks ago a large sum in the possession of a Knockturn Alley shop keeper exploded,” she said. The fact that the venom had been in the hands of lowly, shady merchants was of a high concern. If the low echelons of the underground economy could obtain that much, what was going on among the real criminals?

She hesitated, and then added, “Early last month there was an attempted assassination on an Auror consultant for Smuggling Operations from India. He was assaulted by a weaponized dart of Runespoor Venom. Barely touched English soil. Luckily one of my men was on-scene and the attacker was not successful.” Lowering her cup, she scanned the crowd again. “My office has been investigating.”

Again, hesitance. Investigating and finding more political intrigue that Tamis was certain they should be uncovering. It had some… very serious repercussions if they were able to prove some of their suspicions. She had been very careful of who knew the complete details surrounding the Runespoor investigation and she was trying to gauge if Gertrudis could, or should, be included in those numbers.

With each event and word and detail that Covadonga heard from Tamis she hoarded away in her brain, carefully tucked behind all the things she had to get sorted out for the Wing.  Some place easily accessible, but needed to be written down as soon as she got the chance to pick up a quill and write it in her journal lest she forget.  Just temporary storage.

She also noticed the woman’s not-so-subtle glances about their immediate environment.  OK, so they may have been subtle to anyone else watching, but Covi was the sister of an Auror, an Unspeakable, and a former Quidditch pro who was known for his feints.   All par for the course, but the taller witch of the two had already made sure that this particular establishment was in the clear when it came to holding ideally private conversations.  Eddie would have been proud.

As all the information was amassed and the questions and ideas began to roll through her biological processor she asked, “Anything else besides the runespoors?”  She wanted to go through it all before making any comments.

There were very few traits in individuals that endeared them to Tamis Raynor immensely. The Auror did not feel she had an extraordinarily close bond with this woman. They were professional associates and nothing farther. Regardless of who had almost done permanent damage to whose eardrums. Yet, she could not help but hold the only slightly taller, and slightly younger woman in considerable regard as she absorbed the information Raynor revealed without so much as a bat of an eye. She approved.

She did not however, endorse having to resign herself to the next question. “There was a werewolf attack in Hogsmeade. The runespoor explosion happened earlier that same morning, ironically enough.” She did not bother mentioning the date. As Head of the Regulation and Control of Magic Creatures, the Head Auror did not doubt that Covadonga Gertrudis knew the lunar cycle better than the back of her hand. “Knox Greyfriar was attacked. And inflicted.”

The Auror paused then, considering how to best continue. “As of yet, there is not solid proof that the attack was premeditated. But when the werewolf came to he did not have any recollection of how he came to be in Hogsmeade.” Many werewolves made such claims as a way to escape charges for Reckless Endangerment. The conviction could be rather severe on those with the infliction. Yet… “He was even willing to repeat as much under the influence of Veritaserum. He at least honestly believes that he ended up in Hogsmeade against his will.”

Another potential conspiracy from yet another angle. There were far too much of that going around. In all honesty, unless they did something about, Raynor feared the public’s trust in the Ministry might crumble. “We have not released this information to the press, yet.” It was a perfect means to sabotage the new measures being broached with Werewolf Legislation. 

Her sips became slower and more drawn out as Covadonga listened to Tamis about the attack.  Looking down once she knew then exactly what to do and exactly who to talk to.  The “when” was the only issue she had now and how The Head of the Auror Corps would take it.

“Miss Raynor,” her eyes lifted once more, “if you will allow me to take the liberty, I would like to assist the MLE in the investigation.  I know some…”  Hmm… well, they weren’t really ‘people’.  Actually they would be quite offended if addressed as such.  She would have to go back just a touch.  “I have some resources I would like to consult on the matter.”

One more comment before hearing what Tamis would approve.  “I appreciate holding back releasing information to the press.  I have yet to schedule an interview with the Prophet about the Wing.”

Watching the other woman carefully, the Auror noted as she became gradually more and more pensive, no doubt building toward some grand internal revelation. Raynor could almost hear the thoughts stirring in Gertrudis’ head – not literally of course, her talents had always been more superior in the realm of Occlumency than its more offensive counterpart. The determination was etched very clearly on the Department Head’s delicately structured face.

When the revelation was produced the Head Auror was not sure how she felt about it. With care, she replied, “Magical Law Enforcement has always maintained amiable relations with your department, Madam.” It was not exactly a ‘by all means’ but it was not a ‘no’ either. Werewolf cases in particular required an unprecedented amount of collaboration in any other aspect of the Ministry. While the politics of an attack belonged to the RCMC, the legality of it and the criminal investigations fell into Law Enforcement jurisdiction.  Keeping those lines defined helped prevent excessive toe stomping.

Yet, if the woman felt she might have information of use… the Aurors were overworked as it was.

“If you know of any potential leads, I can assign a couple of Aurors to attend you.” A pause and a small, almost-smirk. “No offense, Madam Gertrudis, but the last time you assisted an investigation my eardrums were nearly casualty,” she alluded to the Runespoor bust where the woman had been bitten by the poisonous head of the three-headed snake. “I want to ensure you have proper back-up.”

And, it would keep the reins of the investigation still in the Aurors hands. The hesitation on terminology and final dubbing of Covandonga’s contacts as ‘resources’ did not sit well with the Auror. She was by no means a prejudice person, but nor was Raynor the most open-minded. The Creature’s Head’s ability to communicate with the non-wizarding of magical species was legendary and no doubt could gather some very enlightening information. But, information gathered in an investigation had to be admissible and viable in court or it was useless. She was not sure how many Wizengamot Elders would find the eye-witness account of a squirrel as admissible. She did not know how to say this politely, so she did not.

If that bridge had to be crossed, they would cross it when it was necessary.

Running a hand through her hair, Raynor sighed, revealing some of the tension she had been experiencing for… months. “Withholding information from the press should not be difficult. Our relations with the media have been strained of late.” Particularly with reporter Niobe Thursby, but that was another issue entirely.

Finishing her cup she set it down back on her saucer and folded her hands on her lap, keeping her eyes trained on the Head of the Auror Corp as she addressed her request.  Hmm… back-up?

“I assure you,” she started, “I will not be needing back-up,” smiling she added good-naturedly, “I would rather not be the cause of injury again to anyone in your department.”  Taking a moment she ordered the same tea she had before as the waiter came around.

After he left she continued with a sigh, “I will be plain with you.  I am going to seek the advice of the centaurs.”  The herd in the Forbidden Forest, naturally.  Giving Raynor some time to let that sink in she added, “Besides their observations they are very useful in identifying other changes in their environment, and while I do not take much stock in Divination—” they were interrupted for only a moment as the waiter returned.  Thanking him she went on again, “their gift with prophecies are nearly (if not more) accurate than our Seers.  They can give us insight no one else can.”

Taking her first sip of her new and steaming hot tea she went on, “As you may well know, centaurs do not take kindly to… strangers.”  She didn’t want to say humans because… well… while it was harder to earn their trust a bond could be formed.  It was not impossible.  “Having ‘back-up’ would actually be worse than just having me go it alone.”  A great truth she hoped Tamis would understand.

“If you are going to become involved in a Law Enforcement Investigation the reinforcements are not optional, Madam.” The Auror advised as politely as Tamis Raynor knew how. Which mean it was less cordial than the average person but more courteous than her usual assumed authority. “They will be assigned. If is out of my control if you choose to neglect them.”

Raynor lapsed into silence as the waiter returned and Covadonga reordered another tea. The man glanced at the second petite woman and hesitated, waiting to see if she would place another order but unsure of whether or not to inquire. When she shook her head he retreated. She was not planning on staying that long. She did not have the luxury.

Centaurs. The creatures… beings? … she was not sure which description was politically correct at the moment. Either way, they often claimed that Wizards had a superiority complex. Raynor always believed it went the other way. She was in no hurry to subject her Aurors to such an encounter and still stood by the underhanded meaning in her previous statement, but. “I do not doubt their abilities,” she agreed, “I just doubt the viability of the information in a court room.” Not only would the word of a Centaur be a subject of critique in and of itself, but it was doubtful one would appear to give a witness account. Even a lousy defense lawyer could negate a second hand tale from a half horse being. “If anything, maybe it can allude to better leads.”

Sitting back, the Auror drained the last of her tea, watching as the waiter retreated again. “The Centaurs are your jurisdiction,” she allowed. “Ackerly Fox, one of my Senior employees has been investigating the criminal potentials surrounding Greyfriar’s attack. If there are any, I can assure you he will find them.” The man looked for any excuse to accuse the lycan population. She did not find that very diplomatic to mention at that moment. “If you wish to consult the case further, he would be than man to talk to.”

“They will be assigned. If is out of my control if you choose to neglect them.”

Then neglect them she would when she wanted to.  This Fox fellow sounded like he could be some use to her.  His “senior” position might help her in another way.  Maybe he knew her brother from back in the day.  Perhaps she could even sway him to be the Auror in one of her first renovated Capture Unit.  Something it looked like she would have to discuss with Tamis at another time.  Her dismissal of the waiter was noted.  That observation and it being plain knowledge that Madam Raynor was a busy and important woman meant to her that she was probably well on her way to closing this conversation.

“Then I will certainly consult Mr. Fox.  I will send him a note when I get back to office to see when he has a free moment.”  She doubted he was sitting around twiddling his thumbs at times like these.  “Thank you for allowing me to go to him for assistance.”  Nothing wrong with being polite and admitting that any resource or help would be welcome.

After another sip she added, “I do hope their information would be viable in a court of law.  Centaurs do not really understand the concept of lying,” except by omission, but she would not mention that.  Covi would make sure that would not be an issue with the ones she chose to speak before the Wizengamot.  Yes, she would make sure that they would be present bodily as well as in word.  “And I certainly understand what you say.  Speaking to them was more or less the start of some preliminary research.  There is at least one centaur…” the witch paused and stared off in to space as a few more names besides Ronan’s flitted across her mind.  “I take that back, at least four who would be more than willing to come forward.”  There would be other more experienced elders, like Magorian, would take some more convincing, but they were the best beings to go to specifically for this type of thing.  Not only did she trust him, but he was the most knowledgeable of the herd, that’s why he was the head of it.  Best of all as one of the more traditional bunch, he didn’t understand lying at ALL.  Once she got him talking he would follow through with what he knew until he had nothing more to say.