Standing at the front of the congregation she had convened, the alert gray eyes of the Head Auror studied those in attendance. Many of which stared back at her with wearing patience or polite anxiety, likely wondering what exactly she planned to do with them.  No amount of interior decorating could make an interrogation room not feel like an interrogation room. The simple additions of a larger table, more comfortable chairs, and coffee and tea did little to disguise the white sterility of the room, or distract from the ominous way the enchanted mirrors absorbed their reflections. It would have to do.

Tamis turned the goblin-wrought badge over in her hand and rubbed her thumb across the serial number engraved on its face. A number she knew by heart; the number that had belonged to her since she became a member of the Auror Corps.

Fifteen years ago Tamis Raynor would have never dreamed she would have been in the position she was in now. She had wanted to become a healer – protect the public from a more pacifistic stance. The law enforcing, the offensive approach, had always been Tait Aldridge’s dream. It was a crucial and grim understanding that had taken his life for him to teach her; the world is an unbiased, dangerous entity. It is not selective in bestowing ill-fate. Bad things could happen to good people. And those people deserved Justice.

With that epiphany, she had joined the Corps without ambition. She had wanted to become an Auror and do her part, willing to become the Ministry’s obedient dog if it meant achieving that goal most efficiently. Then Jason MacDonell had thrown an angry Hungarian Horntail into her schematic. Promoted to Head Auror in a time of relative peace, her objective had stayed much the same. Give viability to the Law, ensure fairness and proper retribution. She slaved over mending the reputation of the Aurors, returning the heavy hand of the Ministry back into the respected Law Enforcers rather than soldiers.

It had been easier to see the world in such simplistic black and white. But now? She was forced to acknowledge just how many shades gray could make.

The objective of Level Two was to protect the people. Status quos dictated how they did that and who the bad guys were. But what if the people decided they needed protecting from Level Two? What if the status quos turned against the Ministry? How do you serve a population that could come to see you as part of the problem? The Enemy.

Constant Vigilance.

Holding the familiar weight of her badge a moment longer, Raynor placed it on the table in front of her and drew her hand away, leaving it there. It was not common practice. Aurors typically wore their badges as a part of themselves and in many ways, by the very nature of their magic, they were.

“Take your badges off and put them on the table,” she told them. “They should not have any part in this.”

Daphne Depardieu was the newest recruit to Level Two, and her introduction had not been easy. She'd been assigned the Schlagenweit case (one of the most complex she'd ever encountered, and involving children. How did one go about solving murder in a child-friendly way?) and her colleagues were less than impressed by her addiction to all things bureaucratic. Yes, Daphne was a good Auror, but she was by no means a risk taker. And this flaw had been her downfall. If it meant breaking, or even twisting the rules, Depardieu could not be part of it - and the laid back attitude of the British Auror Office had  angered the half-French, half-English transfer to no end. This was the law, and nobody could uphold it if they were constantly joking around.

Tamis Raynor looked wistfully into the faces of those under her command, and Daphne met her gaze with an extreme dedication in her eyes. The head of the Auror Office was a brilliant woman, and Depardieu had nothing but applause for her superior. Some called it brown nosing, but she called it adulation. Daphne gave credit where credit was necessary, and Tamis deserved tonnes of the stuff. She had all those idiots like Pratt and Radley under her control - just how did she do it? Daphne was usually the butt of all their jokes, her work becoming more difficult by a lack of co-operation from her colleagues. If she lightened up, then things would probably be a lot easier, but Daphne refused to compromise her authority. She had never been relaxed, carefree or 'chilled' - she'd been on-edge and vigilant since birth.

Sat at the edges of the congregation, Daphne's own chair was unintentionally yet conveniently a few feet away from her next colleague. The more distance the better, they probably thought, yet Daphne was too consumed by her work to let the pranksters of the office really let her down. Give it ten years and Daphne would be in a position like Raynor, and she'd be an inspiration all of those young women who wanted to form a finger of the hand of the law.
"Take your badges off and put them on the table,"Raynor declared. "They should not have any part in this." Daphne's eyes widened, and she placed her cup of tea back in its saucer, popping it onto the nearby table edge. Flicking her eyes over to the others, she was the first to briskly unpin it from her cloak lapel, sliding it onto the surface besides the full china cup. Sitting back contently, Daphne followed orders without question. She always did.

Sam was next to place his badge on the table, though with some reluctance, the badge very much seeming part of him. he was, however, puzzled at why thye had bene convened in an interrgoation room. He did, however, realise that things were likely to change around Level Two today, and he hoped that it would result in things becoming more effective.

The majority of the times that Edward Pratt had ended up in a room with his direct superior it had been alone for the sole purpose of hearing her reprimanding him. Therefore one would have expected Pratt to be somewhat relieved to be sat around a large table with every one of his colleagues and the boss. He was not. On the rare occasions this happened, it was to discuss something far more serious than a disregard for paperwork or his partner. Something that was going to affect every last one of them.

This was the reason Ed sat beside his partner, perfectly silent. He’d made the attempt to look comfortable. Sat back in his chair, eyes on his superior. A small auror figurine which his daughter had given him to keep on his person all the time for ‘good lug’ sat in his hand. In the silent moments which preceded his boss’s instruction, the auror had been twisting it around clumsily in his left hand, rubbing a rough thumb over the grooves.

The instruction came from the woman barely inches taller than the rest of them from her standing position. Ed’s hand froze in its fiddling and he found himself staring across at Raynor, his eyes questioning her but for once, lips not following.

A million questions suddenly swarmed through Pratt’s mind at this point. Well that was after the initial reigning in of his first response of a few expletives. An auror badge was part of an auror. It was something they had on them every damn moment on the job and most would probably have it close to them every other moment of their life. The badge showed their dedication and passion for the job as well as strength of character and it definitely wasn’t something an auror handed over lightly.

So why did she want them to do this now?

The first two removed their badges and Ed kept his expression plain as he spared a sidelong glance at his partner. Blind obedience was all he’d considered was what a few of the aurors in this office had to offer. The French kid, Harcroft. Fox and once Malone. Now Ed had seen a bit of personality from the Frizzy haired auror. But was she going to blindly obey to this command?

The figurine was relegated to his robe pocket where it lived before Ed’s hands rose to unpin his badge. The pin slid from his robes, leaving the lapel bare as if the badge had never been there.

With the golden emblem of his career grasped in his large hand, Pratt eyeballed his superior. She was no doubt expecting defiance on his part. Ed resisted the urge to give it to her and instead slowly placed his badge on the desk, reluctantly pulling his hand away. She’d commanded them to do it. There was no doubt a good reason.

"Oh, move along, Pratt.  You're not getting sacked."  Zora's unsympathetic, sharp voice was the loudest noice since Raynor had called for their badges.    Auror Roh had gotten caught up behind fellow Auror Pratt who seemed to malinger over his badge like it held his very beating heart.   She pushed passed him and slammed her own scuffed up badge onto the table.

"Not that bloody hard, is it?  Bollocks." 

She returned just as swiftly to her chair and had a sit, both knees and arms crossed.  Her boot tapped the air in apparent nonchalance, but she was agitated.  She didn't know what Raynor was up to, only that she felt the same tension that had been building this whole year.  The Remembering Day Murders were still open.  Robards was still dead last time the necromancer checked.  And Spencer wasn't going to be herself anytime soon.  Raynor herself looked like she'd been wrung through the wringer and the details on that were very slow to be revealed.

"Removing a badge does nothing to change who we are," he said simply as he took his own off and placed it with the others. Truth was something that Ackerly was not afraid of- and not wearing a chunk of metal made him no less of an auror. Every decision that Ackerly had made in his life thus far was as a result of his employment with the magical law enforcement. He had given up his wife, his son, his daughter- an entire life- to better serve wizarding Britain and to ensure his dedication to the cause- the cause of the greater good.

And here was Raynor- telling them their badges should not enter into this- asking them all to deny who they were and the oaths that they had sworn? He would not do it. Badge or no badge. He had been a part of this force since he had left Hogwarts, and he had weathered as much as Raynor. There were smirches, to be sure, recent events had proven that- but imperfection made him no less worthy.

After placing his badge on the desk he resumed his seat, crossing his arms and looking up at Tamis expectantly. It was serious- he could grasp that much, and he would wait for her word. He might not always be the best soldier, but he tried to be an obedient one. He lived by the law and he operated by it- which was far more than what could be said for the vast majority of his colleagues in level two.

For a supposed staff meeting, there were plenty of non-Aurors in the room.  Charlene eyed them carefully, silently watching from the chair she had claimed between her partner and her former mentor.  She had nothing against individuals like Tulojow Nagde; to the contrary, she held plenty of respect for the American witch, even if she didn't always agree with her methods. But she wasn't an Auror.

And if Eleor didn't stop sniggering from the other side of the room, she was going to seriously consider hexing him once no one was looking.

Whatever she had been expecting, the command to take off her badge hadn't been it.  Charlene visibly hesitated, exchanging a look with Pratt as she considered.  Taking off their badges didn't make this unofficial.  And with so many outsiders here, this felt deliberately like something that wasn't a simple meeting.

Roh managed, as always, to completely dissolve the tension, ribbing her partner in the process.  Charlene snorted, and then added her badge to the growing pile after Fox.  "And it doesn't change what we represent," she added, looking back to Raynor.  "Badge or not, most of us are still Aurors."

There were several phrases that came to mind in this situation: sitting in the lion's den was the first.  The tuna that had, somehow, had gotten confused and found themselves swimming amongst a pod of dolphins was probably more accurate.  Even if it wasn't actually a phrase.  But, the analogy really seemed to work well.  And, swimming with confidence was crucial to saving face amongst the predators that would make quick work of him if they every became the wiser and he kept swimming straight ahead with solid determination. 

Of course, he recognized many of the faces in the room though there were a few who were, as of yet, unfamiliar to him.  He suspected even fewer of them recognized him in return.  He was amongst the most junior ranking Auror in the group - by all accounts, he was still officially a trainee - and many only saw him in passing on those sporadic occasions he visited Level 2 to meet with Malone or drop off a report.

He certainly was of no rank to go questioning any directives issued by the Head of the Auror Office.  He promptly pushed himself to his feet and tugged the badge from his pocket.  He never wore the thing for fear of forgetting to take it off before venturing down Knockturn Alley.  He usually kept it tucked safely in a drawer in the Auror Office - the only place he actually needed it.  He felt no attachment to the etched piece of metal and dropped it easily enough on the table with the others before regaining his seat. 

Archer had taken a seat near the front of the room, as he normally would.  He took his job seriously, despite popular rumor, and wanted to be involved in these decisions, particularly as he and Tamis had discussed them before - a surprising conversation for the both of them.  But, he wasn’t going to hold onto it for this discussion.  This was official and he was going to do what he had to here, and that was be a good auror and public servant. 

He knew Tamis was run-down to some degree.  She had a lot to deal with and as all of the signs were pointing toward something ominous, something none of them could quite put their fingers on, but altogether bad, was happening.  Archer had his suspicions, but he kept them to himself.  It was case sensitive and would jus cause unnecessary stress to go so far, but it could happen, and he acknowledged it, so he was preparing himself, along with Tamis’ concerns for the whole of Level Two.

For that reason, when she asked to put their badges down, Archer gave a reluctant, but quiet sigh, not really doing much to disobey.  Ackerly found the energy to make a smart mouthed comment, even if it was true, that wasn’t quite the point.  It was a symbolic gesture.  They were supposed to be thinking of themselves not as aurors but also as ordinary witches and wizards.  Archer assumed some of his colleagues forgot that some times, especially the ones that liked to mouth off in staff meetings.

He would have been one of those, had he not really had the time to digest what was coming in this talk.  Whatever the case, he unpinned the badge he had had for years and placed it on the table, feeling somehow naked without it as he stood in front of everyone.  It was harder to step away from the table once the badge was off.  But, he did as he was instructed and sat back down, trying to make himself comfortable in the altogether unsettling atmosphere.

He didn’t even have the stomach for coffee right now.  He just crossed his arms and tried to block out the white walls and the energy associated with an interrogation room, looking up to Tamis.  He was going to behave this meeting, he promised himself, and sat uncharacteristically quietly as he waited.

"Bam!" Adon whispered to Jonas as he walked alongside him through the door, gesturing with his fingers the penetrating, laser-like beams that shot from his eyes into Jonas' soul.

Eventually Jonas would tire of teasing him about Witch Weekly's comment on his soulful, soul-searching eyes. Until then, Adon was determined to position himself in a point of authority by being the one cracking the jokes to which Jonas laughed. And when he got tired of them, well, Adon would make sure it was Jonas who looked ridiculous.

He gave a grin and a wink to the absorbing, one-sided mirror of the interrogation room. Eat your heart out, Hills.

Adon shuffled lithely over to situate himself into a seat towards the back -- "back" being as far away from Raynor as possible -- and pulled out a chair for Jonas. It was, really, non-negotiable. They were partners. Which meant it was Jonas' job to be his best friend. Forced frienditude. Could be worse.

Leaning back in the chair, Adon avoided the impulse to perch it on its hind legs and listened to Tamis' dramatic beginning. He wondered if Jonas'd been sharing any of his cheesy PI novels, movies. . .dram--crime dramas -- with her. Though Tamis' cloak-and-dagger had always been remarkably and, ironically, blatantly obvious.

“Take your badges off and put them on the table,” she told them. “They should not have any part in this.”

An ironic grin split his lips as he stiffled a cough of laughter. Yes, he'd tried that three months ago. She had called him a dramatic puppy then. Now, dramatics were hers.

With casual abandon, Adon tugged at the chain about his neck and loosed the badge, dropping it lightly onto the table's surface. He folded his arms across his chest and looked up at the ceiling, then, sidelong, at Jonas Trevelyan, who he hoped was getting as much of a kick out of this as he was.

The red-haired man wiped tears from his eyes, not-so-successfully trying to muffle his laughter as he entered the interrogation room alongside the Israeli.  The wink at the mirrored wall nearly sent him into another peal of laughter.  Swallowing awkwardly, he aimed a punch at Adon's arm, keeping his bad leg mostly straight to minimize the limp as he followed the younger man to his chosen chairs.

Adon, for whatever reason, had selected a good vantage point to observe the rest of the gathering.  Jonas rubbed his hands over his face, taking a deep breath as he gathered himself, and then carefully focused his attention on the other individuals present.  There were some members of the Corps that he still knew from a decade ago: Roh, Fox, Harcroft, Dan Pratt's younger brother - and of course, Archer Radley.  Other faces ringing the table were new.  Tamis sat comfortably at the head of it all, awaiting them to wait on her.

She started with a simple command: Badges.  On the table. 

Jonas paused, raising his eyebrows as he spared a quick glance at Adon.  The command was oddly melodramatic in a way that he didn't expect of Tamis Raynor - but then, he probably should.  This was the woman who had broken into his office one night to hire him on for a marginally legal investigation;  who, after receiving a mysterious missive, had chosen to go after a lead suspect all on her own without even notifying backup.  After all the time he'd spent at her bedside in Scotland, she had expressed her thanks by cornering him in a coffee shop to offer him his dead best mate's former badge in order to lure him back to the force.  Obviously, Raynor had been cultivating her sense of drama in the years since he'd known her.  Taking a page out of some Muggle crime drama to start a meeting was hardly out of character.

If she were prompting them with melodrama like this, though, it was for a purpose.  Jonas stayed where he was, keeping his posture relaxed and making no move to relieve the weight in his pocket.  Next to him, Adon was giving a better show of coughing than he had managed earlier.  The red-haired man kicked lightly at his friend's foot, slanting him a dry look that was not nearly as soulful or deep as the Israeli's own Witch Weekly-eulogized gaze.  Destined for an over-the-top television crime drama or not, there were still hands to play out here.

Keeping his expression impassive, Jonas carefully turned his attention not on Tamis, but on the others in the room as he waited for the woman to continue speaking.

Staff meetings.  What a blast from the past.  Jason MacDonell had still been Head Auror the last time Tulojow had sat in on one of these.  Three weeks later, she'd been assigned to Mombay to monitor black market trading of illegal magical creatures and bi-products.  Her unfortunate run in with the yeti several years later had forced her retirement. 

There were many faces in the room she recognized - either from those sporadic times she found herself working out of Level 2 or from recent events that drew the Auror office to Hogwarts.  Many of them, though, were unfamiliar to the older woman. She suspected she was likewise unfamiliar to many of them.  In many instances, they likely knew her more by reputation than by sight or name. 

Invitation to attend had come from Tamis via Jonas.  Tulojow was fully aware her presence could very well ruffle a few feathers; there was no shortage of aurors who had been relieved to see the American-born Chippewa Auror retire.  She'd been effective and had made herself valuable with her ability to develop a report with indigenous populations in many of the former British territories but she'd also been very much a wildcard.  A rogue.  She'd been confined to desk duty on two separate occasions in the seventies - both times after the Ministry had discovered Tulojow in muggle American federal detention for American Indian Movement protest activities.

Tulojow raised both eyebrows, casting a curious and questioning glance up at Tamis as the younger women tossed her Auror badge on the table.  Was this an attempt to level the playing field for all involved or was it primarily a gesture for the Aurors' benefit?  Tulojow's gaze moved over the room, watching for each reaction to the instructions.  Some responded promptly; some responded so quickly as to indicate unquestioning obedience and some hesitated.  It was interesting to see who fell into which category.  She remained in her seat, however; she had no badge to turn in.  As Malone had so eloquently put it, Tulojow wasn't amongst those that were still, technically, Aurors.  At least not by any official standard.  She'd rejoin in a heartbeat if given the opportunity, though. 

And, with forty two years on the force behind here, there was some truth to the feeling of: Once an Auror, Always An Auror. 

But, she kept that response safely to herself. 

Chalmers had been one of the stragglers into the room for the meeting. Normally he would have been one of the first ones there, but he’d been striving to finish some paperwork, and got a little distracted.  He was still able to see Tamis, and of course hear her.  Something was obviously bothering their leader, and of course they were about to find out.   A few others came in behind him, and Chalmers kept his attention to Tamis, waiting for her to begin.

When the Auror Head took off her badge and placed it on the table, Chalmers was a little surprised.  Then she asked them all to do the same. Chalmers was one of the ones who hesitated.  His badge definitely was a very big part of who he was.  But then, seeing everyone else place theirs down, he was inclined to do the same.  There was no point in resisting, and he was sure that Tamis had a point in this.

There were a plethora of personalities grouped in the interrogation-turned-conference room.

Depardieu, the newest member of the team, and a transfer from France. France being, well, France, the Head Auror had been hesitant to accept the Auror but the strain on her own numbers had finally decided her. While she still was quite unfamiliar with the young woman, she was not disappointed with the choice. The focused, driven attitude she exhibited was not uncommon of new female Aurors bent on proving themselves equal to their male counterparts. And some of the history in her file explained the detachment. Nonetheless she was a good investigator, good woman– but too obedient. She was one of the first to sacrifice her badge.

Harcroft had been around since before most of the Aurors in the room, including herself. He was sharp enough and survived two Wizarding Wars, proving he had the perseverance to come out on top. And he was also a member of the Old Guard – which was what Raynor was afraid of. He was of the generation where Aurors had become soldiers, warriors, and even on the cusp of a new battle, that was not the way the Head Auror planned on fighting it. It had not proved successful for the Ministry in the past. He gave his badge up quicker than she would have expected.

Pratt. Gray eyes met green as they had on so many previous occasions of test of wills. Gaining Edward Pratt’s respect had not been an easy voyage. She still was not sure she actually had it, she reminded herself, biting back a smirk. He played the clown, often to underscore his own personal problems, but he was a good man and a good investigator, not afraid to look outside the box. He got the job done and knew how the play the delicate dance between the Right Way and the Way That Works.  Defiance provoked by curiosity gleamed back at her from his eyes before he finally, slowly, relinquished his badge. The cooperation was touching, enough so that she excused it.

Roh. She actually allowed herself to smirk as the feisty embodiment of feminist energy marched right up and deposited her badge, scolding Pratt along the way.  The woman could be a right headache, but she got the job done, and had that same outside-the-box thinking process.  Thwarting Kingstreet from framing the Minister had been her success – if only she had not tried to hamper Devlin Matthew’s reproductive abilities, however much she approved. Zora gave her badge up readily, not for lack of belief in it, but belief that it did not carry the significance of her position. It was an interesting angle.

Fox. Somehow she knew Fox would be the first to make a stand. But whether it was out of petulance toward the Head Auror or actual steadfast belief in his words, Raynor could not rightfully tell. The two of them never truly saw eye to eye, but Tamis could respect what the man had to offer as an Auror. Whether he meant them or not, the words were good.

Malone was quick to echo Fox and though Raynor held her neutral façade, inwardly she smirked again. Recent horror of the Valentine’s Day double date aside, she had not experienced much direct contact with the young Auror. She was, however, the one she saw most of herself in, but with improved anger management. Working with Pratt had relaxed her a little, allowing her to see that while the law was important it was not all-consuming. She would make the good leader she wanted to be, with more experience.

Christian Colburn. The Auror Training who’s reasoning for joining the Aurors was still shrouded in mystery.  A former Knockturn Alley rat, but with an overall clean record minus his associations – and whom was currently spying on the growing Terrorist Group. The question of if he was spying on the Aurors in return was still a valid one, but from how she heard it, Raynor was able to stand in this room today thanks to Colburn’s interference. He discarded his badge with no real dramatics.

Radley. Archer. Name dependent on the circumstance, relinquished his badge looking a little off color. Tamis met his eyes briefly and then looked away, least one betray the either. Her former partner of thirteen years,  Archer Radley had always meant something and recently was meaning much more. He remained the only one, as of yet, who knew what she was about. The growing bond had demanded it. Yet, he did not know everything.

Eleor and Trevelyan. She saw them out of her peripheral but did not look at them directly. She had not talked to either one of them directly since she relinquished her memory of Tait Aldridge’s death to Jonas. Not that was particularly hard, Eleor avoided her on a regular basis. The not-really-suppressed laughter was hard to miss. She did, however, note that Jonas did not relinquish his recently acquired badge. Whether that was to prevent the present Tulojow Nadge and Aberdeen Spencer from being aware of its presence or out of some measure of self worth at just acquiring it, she was not sure.  She risked a glance at him, but he was not looking at her; he was looking at everyone else.

Of all the people to guess, he had been on the receiving end enough to figure it out, she allowed.

Tulojow Nagde’s presence at the meeting alone signified where she stood, and Raynor fully believed that even if she had a badge to give – she would not have. They got on as well as water and oil, though they seemed to have developed some sort of understanding in their collaborated months of effort illegally aiding Fauna Blake. She, like Trevelyan, was watching the others more than Raynor.

And Chalmers Holt. Another young Auror, a member of that new generation. An auror that had never fought in a Wizarding War, had never been through the Ministry in a time of right crisis. It was his generation that was either going to help them or handicap them, she was not quite sure which, yet. He hesitated in relinquishing his badge more than she thought he would. Assigned to protect the Minister, Holt was not a frequent face around the office, but the fact an attempt on the Minister had yet to succeed proved his worth.

Raynor waited in silence, evaluating each member of the party wordlessly as the pile of badges slowly grew. When they all had congregating there (or all of the ones that had been relinquished had been), she finally nodded in acknowledgment of Fox and Malone’s verbal points. The only ones thus far that had verbalized anything – other than Eleor’s laughter.

Could they all do what she was going to ask of them? There was one way to find out. Sometimes rocking the boat was necessary.

She shrugged as she finally took her seat, leaning back in her chair. “Is that really true?  Do we determine who we are or is it determined for us? If the people we protect tomorrow declared us the enemy, what then do we represent? If I took those badges from you, that you just freely gave up – thus revoking your right to it, and told everyone in this room they were dismissed from the Ministry, are you still an Auror?” She made a “what-if” question sound dangerously like a possibility. “Without that badge, you have no Authority.”

" Once an Auror, always an Auror. Being an auror is about more than the badge- which, you may be forgetting, I gave up during the Second War rather than serve a Voldemort-aligned Ministry. The badge is simply a symbol. A powerful symbol, but it only defines us as a symbol of what does. If I was fired, it wouldn't make the slightest bit of difference in who I was. If anythng, I define myself more by my family than me being an Auror. I still consider MacDonnell an auror, even if he is retired now. If any Auror would consdier themselves different for lack of hhaving their badge, I would question their dedication to the job, quite frankly." Samuel said, stopping primaeily because he desperately needed to breathe.