She had never been much of an admirer of the Hitwizards.  Certainly, they were necessary; the Auror Corps was overworked as it was, and even in slower times, the red-robed representatives of Level Two couldn't be everywhere at once.  Charlene didn't doubt that the Ministry's hitwizards performed their jobs to the best of their ability, dodging hexes and all, or think in any way that they took their responsibilities any less seriously than an Auror would.  Theirs was an important task, and their availability to deal with any routine crime freed the more specialized and highly trained Aurors to focus their attention on the truly necessary cases.

Except...

Well, there wasn't an except.  Not one that she was willing to admit, anyhow.  Charlene was very firm with herself on this point - there was no reason to think less of the hitwizards, simply because most of their members had failed to qualify for Auror training.  Certainly, they weren't as disciplined.  Their reputation wasn't the best.  They tended to treat rules and regulations as a suggestion more than a firm standard.  But she did not think worse of them because of it.

It was still somewhat frustrating, Charlene thought, whenever she had a hitwizard assigned to one of her cases.  She had to give a briefing on the necessary information - not just the background on the case but also the rules of engagement, because after her first collaboration with the Auror Corps' more street-savvy counterparts, she wasn't going to make that mistake twice.  She had to begin all over again from the start and explain, and deal with the inevitable conflict that came from working with another department.  Even though she was determined not to think any less of the hitwizards, they never seemed to be willing to play on the same team.

Even though the assignment had come down through all the proper channels, Charlene was not particularly looking forward to the upcoming conversation.  This particular hitwizard was not only new, but also French.

 She sighed.  She would almost have rather dealt with Pratt than this.

Still, Charlene was determined not to let it show.  She had gone about setting up the small office that she had temporarily taken over as a briefing room in a very businesslike fashion, and had even made copies of the necessary paperwork.  She had notecards and knew what she was going to say.  If he forgot a pen, she'd brought extra.

She had been busying about preparing her notes when the door opened.  Charlene checked her watch.  He was right on time.  At least that was a good start.

"Hitwizard Hargrove?" she asked, giving the man a professional smile as she rose to her feet, extending a hand to him.  "I'm Auror Malone.  Welcome back to the British Ministry."

Third day back, third day that would end up in more unpaid overtime, and it was only Kevin's first case.  It was apparently something bigger than the average crime, as he had been assigned to work with an auror and he was not given any briefing on the matter; it was made apparent to him that since this auror would be giving him the briefing, it would be him/her in charge.  'Great, another arrogant auror who thinks he's better than a hitwizard, exactly what I need,' He thought, annoyed. 

Kevin had long dealt with the torment that came with being a hitwizard.  He knew the stigma that aurors were better existed, but chose to ignore it; he found it much easier to ignore as of late, having been offered the position of Department Head in France as their effort to keep him to stay on there.  Nevertheless, he turned it down.  He had bigger reasons for being a hitwizard.

Walking fast, he made his way to the office of a certain "Auror Malone."  He was eager to get the briefing over with and get on with the case.  Formalities weren't his favorite form of work; he preferred to get down and dirty with the work at hand so as to get it done as quickly as possible.

'Let this be some big, pompous, self-righteous...woman?' he thought as he pushed open the office door, but seeing only a woman, obviously some secretary who had gotten lost.  'But, wait..she said she was auror Malone.'  Kevin recovered quickly and smiled; his day had suddenly gotten a lot brighter.  Putting on his classic Hargrove grin, he stepped forward and extended his hand.

"Kevin Hargrove, and it's a pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise," Charlene replied, giving his hand a firm grip in greeting.  Between Pratt, Eleor, and Radley - she wouldn't count Chalmers as part of it, even though he tagged along sometimes - it seemed as if Level Two had as many wizards as it could take in the 'thought they were charming until reality begged to differ' variety.  Judging by Hargrove's sudden shift in expression, he might unfortunately have to be counted among the lot. 

She sighed inwardly, but did her best to keep it from showing in her expression, returning his smile with a polite one of her own.  "Thank you for being on time.  Please take a seat," she said, nodding to the chair on the opposite side of the table.

Charlene stayed standing as she opened a folder, taking a moment to flip through the pages.  "I imagine you're aware of quite a lot of this," she informed the hitwizard, not looking up as she glanced over one particular piece of paper.  "But I like to make certain that everyone involved in my investigations know where we stand, so I'd rather start from the beginning.  It should only take a short while to get you up to speed."

She glanced up at Hargrove as she closed the folder, and then slid it across the table to him so that he could start examining it.  "Did you have any questions before we dive into matters?"

Kevin watched as put on an overly polite smile and encouraged him to sit, while she stood.  Kevin sat (after all, he was in her office, her home turf) but knew that this wouldn't possibly last; Kevin wasn't one to take orders from those who were no higher on the corporate ladder than he was.  She was simply an auror, he was a hitwizard; both positions were theirs by choice.  This woman obviously thought much of herself.  'What a prude,' he thought, without any expression at all.  'Let's just get this case over with.'

He flipped through the folder nonchalantly, wondering why he was even assigned to the case.  It seemed like all they needed was to bring a guy in, couldn't the wonderful, spectacular, elitist bunch of aurors do that?  Kevin shrugged and looked back up at her.  The folder was thick with information on this man's friends and frequent places he went, on his history dating back to his birth, on his family's history; every facet of this man's life had been carefully constructed and put neatly in this folder. 

"Well, it seems that most of this is irrelevant to the task at hand.  'Bring him in' is all you really need to do, right?" Kevin said, slightly bored.  Though, he was quite looking forward to bringing someone in who would definitely not be cooperative.  That kind of situation nearly always ended in a duel, and Kevin was quite the duelist.

Kevin closed the folder, remembering only the man's appearance (from a picture that was paper-clipped onto the inside flap of the folder) and his name.  He spoke casually, "so... when do you need him brought in?"

The proper thing to do was to give this fellow the benefit of the doubt.  The Ministry obviously wouldn't have let him transfer back unless he was good at his job (although judging by some of the Aurors within her own department, 'professionalism' wasn't necessarily a quality that the government held in very high regard).  But the casualness with which he flipped through the folder, the insouciance in his own expression, rankled something deep within Charlene.  This was her case.  If he was going to be assigned to it, then he was damned well going to take it seriously.

"Well, bring him in with due accordance paid to proper wizarding law," she replied, watching Hargrove like a hawk.  She wasn't going to have him going and playing maverick so that he could come off as some sort of hero.  Even if he got himself killed, which was likely considering their target, she'd still be responsible for filling out the paperwork afterwards.  "But yes, that's the heart of it."

The man's next question was thrown out so flippantly, he could have been asking what time they were due to have lunch.  Charlene's eyebrows shot up as she gave the man a disbelieving look.  Was he really that overconfident?  Michael Dark had been on the run for months, and was a Metamorphmagus besides.  What did Hargrove expect to do, run into him at the potions shop and ask him to come in quietly?

"Well, three o'clock today would be ideal," she replied, her voice crisp and dry.  "That should give me plenty of time to get the paperwork completed before the offices close at five, and I'd like to get out on time for once.  Do you think you can manage?"