As Fauna walked towards the hospital hut, she felt glad that it wasn't as muddy out as it had been last weekend, and wondered which Auror would be waiting for her today. Last week's lesson hadn't exactly ended well, and though her arm had healed, she didn't want to repeat that experience. Poor Radley. Poor her. Rufus had been the only one who had gotten out of that lesson unscathed, tail wagging (with her hat as a prize).

Fauna didn't look as bedraggled this morning as she had lately. She'd given herself enough time to get ready properly, so that her hair was swept up in a neat ponytail, and her forehead wasn't shiny. Her eyes still looked tired and worry often settled on her features, but at least she looked somewhat presentable.

The SAWS assembly yesterday had gone... interestingly. She was relieved it was over and done with, relieved that she had at least tried. The ridiculous rumors about Fauna being a werewolf had only picked up speed after Baxter had confronted her, and no matter what she did or how she acted, the majority of people seemed to believe those rumors (or just loved talking), picking apart her taste for bacon or her tendency not to notice if a leaf fell in her hair. It would be nice to go to the hut for a few hours and spend time somewhere she felt safe and welcome. The Hufflepuffs were largely supportive, but Fauna couldn't hide in the common room all weekend.

When Fauna opened the door to the hut and saw Auror Raynor already inside, a warm smile lit up her face, automatic but sincere. She wouldn't tell her this, but she'd missed her last weekend. As Fauna stomped the snow out of her boots, she remembered the letter and birthday present Raynor had sent her, and Fauna's response that had hinted at 'news to tell her'. Uh oh. Fauna half-hoped (even knowing it was futile) that Raynor had forgotten about that. Radley had reacted so well, and though Fauna respected and valued his opinion, it was different with Raynor, and she couldn't help but feel extremely nervous and question how the Auror would feel about her decision to explore her career options.

Had Radley told her already? Shite. What if he had? Fauna shrugged off her coat, greeted Tulo, and took a seat at the kitchen table in her usual spot across from Raynor.

"Hi," she said softly, studying Raynor's face for some clue. "Rufus is missing out today? He seemed to have so much fun last time," Fauna let out a giggle, certain that Radley had at least mentioned her epic and disastrous wipe-out.

The threat of spring could not come soon enough, Tamis Raynor reflected as she eyed the budding trees outside the window with forlorn hope. It was warmer, but still not at her ideal temperature. Seated at the table the Head Auror cradled a steaming cup of tea, nursing it in the silence of the Hut. The lack of conversation could be blamed on the petite woman’s rather stoic nature but said woman had an uncanny suspicion that they both knew the truth. She was not yet ready to talk about events that had transpired over the last couple of weeks. And conversation was bound to include then.

Facing the door, she watched with gray-eyed attentiveness as it pulled open – neither too fast nor too slow, but a natural tempo of someone who subconsciously felt like they had a right to be opening it. Fauna Blake produced herself mere moments later, stomping out her shoes and greeting her with a brief, well-meant smile before it fell into more wary (or was it worried?) consideration.  With some measure of guilt, Tamis Raynor had not remembered their exchange of letters until that moment.

Last Sunday had been the first Sunday that, excluding her hospitalization, she had failed to make due on their arrangement. Another small pang of guilt. She had had her hands tied dealing with Devlin Matthews and then convening with the Aurors.  Sending Archer in her stead had been the most suitable arrangement she could manage. He was familiar. And well qualified. Even if he had not given her many details as to the transgressions of that meeting.

She had forgotten that the teenager had wished to speak to her. Or wished to speak to her without actually wanting to say as much. The cross out in that letter had taken some detective work, but she had managed.

Because she was now looking for them, she noticed the peaky quality of her visage. Not prevalent or overwhelming, but uncharacteristically present. She saluted the seventh year with her tea, lips pulling up into a small, brief tight lipped smile, pretending not to notice.

Her student joined her at the table, an all too familiar set up. A lone eyebrow twitched upward in response to the girl’s words. She had known Archer had taken the canine with him but did not realize it was worth such a mention. Her curiosity spiked, wondering for the first time what exactly Archer had been omitting.  Fun and Rufus in the same sentence generally resulted in trouble.

“He did,” she agreed finally, with an air of confidence that suggested she knew what she was talking about. “He slept through the entire night, you certainly wore him out.” she said, leaving the comment hanging.

Of course, trying to read Raynor's facial expressions was like trying to divine meaning from tea leaves: it was all hopeful guesswork. Fauna liked to think the eyebrow raise signaled amusement. She felt reassured, somewhat, by Raynor's tone of voice, because it fit in with her assumption that Radley had mentioned the disastrous (and hilarious) end to their lesson.

"I know," she shook her head and chuckled. "If you ever have to try to give Rufus a bath, well... I'll apologize now. He bites at water. And he's probably going to be really confused about why there's no crazy hat person diving in front of him to save him from it."

She paused. "He still has my hat, the little bugger," Fauna said lightly, deciding she didn't want it back anyway. Her goal today was to act happy and well-adjusted, because she wanted to pretend for a little while, especially in front of somebody that she respected so much. If Radley had told Raynor about her career ideas, then Fauna wanted to live up to it, in a sense. If he hadn't, Fauna would have to tell her today, she bet, and it wouldn't do to start things off on a moody or sulky tone.

Her face grew a tad more serious and she shifted in her seat. "Can you tell Radley I'm fine the next time you see him? After the shoulder thing it was kind of awkward," she gave her an embarrassed look, expecting Raynor to know what she was talking about. "I was just quiet because I was having a bad..." Week? Month? "Weekend. I'm okay now."

Fauna was feeling marginally better about her break-up with Devlin, though she wouldn't call it 'okay'. She still missed him. There were times when she got into the most awful mood and snapped at people or had to run to the loo to cry. Plus, the werewolf rumors were really getting to her. But she was better than she was last weekend, she hoped.

The prying statement had worked fall too well as the young Hufflepuff student unraveled the missing tale detail by detail. She had though that it had been a little odd that Rufus had been a disconcerting level of clean when she returned from work the previous Sunday.  She had wondered why Fauna would relinquish such a bewildering (and therefore likely cherished) hat as a ‘gift’ to the rambunctious puppy as Archer had – shoulder thing?

Gray eyes narrowed, just slightly on their outer corners and they drifted suspiciously the pair of symmetrical limb attachments and back again. Lingering too long would make Fauna paranoid. Lifting her cool gaze back up to meet the younger woman’s warmer blue, Raynor’s lips pulled up into a smirk that did not meet her eyes. “Yes, of course.” Whatever had happened had been problematic enough that Blake was worried that Archer was still concerned about it. And look ashamed of. Something Archer had decided was unimportant enough to relay to her. He was a dead man. The smile became a hair more pleasant, “I am sure he will be relieved when I relay the message.” Dead man.

The Head Auror had full intentions of grilling the seventh year subtly for more information to discover just how large of a hole Archer Radley had dug when she hesitated. Something had changed in Fauna Blake’s demeanor, or rather, Raynor had started to pay closer attention. The dark shadowing under those brilliantly colored eyes. The shade paler complexion.  Fauna Blake looked careworn – two words the petite woman never would have thought to put together in the same sentence.

And then the guilt flooded her. Tightened her throat.

She had known in December that Fauna had been dating Devlin Matthews. The former Ravenclaw that had aided Theodora Kingstreet in a conspiracy against the government. The man-child that Zora Roh had… assaulted… when she caught him red-handed at the scene-of-the-crime. The teenager that Knox Greyfriar had showed up to her Office, at the end of his wits pleading for help with. And the same boy that she had just agreed to let earn himself a lesser sentence by throwing himself into harm’s way. And not once, not once had it occurred to her to think about this young woman sitting in front of her. A youth, that despite all of Raynor’s efforts, was still coming to terms with the cruelty of the world the hard way.

 She lapsed into silence then, tapping her fingers together awkwardly. Emotional was not her forte.  She was not even sure she could do emotional. But she felt obligated to try. “Is there anything you would like to … talk … about?” That did not come out as hesitant. Not at all.

Fauna stared at Raynor for a moment. She didn't seem as amused by Rufus' adventure and the subsequent Mishap of the Shoulder as Fauna had expected her to be. Maybe 'amused' wasn't the right word. But her response was so vague and cryptic that she found herself questioning what was going on here.

Her eyes widened slightly when she noticed Raynor tap her fingers together, and then ask if there was anything she wished to tell her. The gesture in itself was odd. Her tentative way of speaking was even stranger.

Radley must have told her! Had he? Possibly? Fauna let out a breath and straightened in her seat, giving the Auror a wary glance. There was no escaping this. It wouldn't help if she waited until next week, hoping things would get better, because life would never be perfect. Time to fess up.

"Yeah. Yeah, there is," she bit her lip, reaching up to rest her chin in her hands, and then dropping her hands in her lap.

"It's... kinda about classes. Kinda."

This was so not about classes.

"I'm getting some tutoring in Potions and Transfiguration. 'Cause... I dropped those classes after my fifth year. So I'm hoping, I mean, it's going to be really hard, but... I'm hoping to catch up with those subjects. Don't know if I'll be able to do it by the end of the school year, but I'm thinking about, well, getting to the level where I can take NEWTs in those... which might mean I'll continue studying over the summer, or... however long it takes."

Fauna paused, wondering if she was going about this all wrong.

"What do you think about that?" She kept her tone light, but gave Tamis a searching look, and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

Classes. This was about classes. 

She was this worried about classes?

 Education had never been a struggling point for the Head Auror. She had always been a gifted student, she was quite sure that little fact was the only reason she had never faced expulsion. That and Dumbledore had to have at least found her creative – at least she had thought she was at the time. Fauna Blake had either changed a great deal in the past year, more than Raynor had thought, or something did not add up. When she had met Fauna, the girl had been quite satisfactory with mediocre performance in Defense Against the Dark Arts. She half-guessed the mentality had extended to all of her course-work.  Confidence (or lack thereof) had been a major obstacle, but she had presumed the girl was not looking to peruse a profession that required an extensive list of N.E.W.Ts.

 Transfiguration and Potions were two integral subjects for several of the most prestigious careers in the wizarding world. But the young woman had dropped them two years ago. Dropped. Which implied her O.W.Ls had been satisfactory enough, but she had chosen not to proceed.  Supported Raynor’s theory, but not the current mindset of the seventeen year old. Who was willing to work toward receiving those N.E.W.Ts even after completion of Hogwarts.  However long it takes.

Gray eyes stared a hole through the Hufflepuff Seventh Year. There was one career in particular the Head Auror knew with absolute certainty put an emphasis on Potions and Transfiguration. That… no. That could not be right.

And the silence was becoming awkward. Her fingers tapped together again and her feet shifted under the table. That was not making it any less awkward.

“If you put forth the same perseverance as you have with our sessions, I believe it is feasible.” She started, honestly. “We can incorporate more transfiguration into the tra-“ she almost said training, “-lessons for these last few months.” It would be like a trip to Honeydukes for the petite witch, who specialized in combative transfiguration. “Potions has less relevant to our objective, but your professor may be willing to assist. Have you spoken to your head of house?”

A pause. “This is a very large decision,” she said ambiguously.

There was a long silence. Fauna held Raynor's gaze, conscious of every finger tap or shift of the feet under the table, because those were her only clues as to how the Head Auror was processing this. When Raynor spoke, she seemed to understand what Fauna was really asking, and said it was feasible. A neutral word. It was feasible for Fauna to fail all of her NEWTS too, but that didn't make it a good idea.

Her stomach did a queasy little tumble. Raynor's vague statement that it was a large decision worried Fauna, and she glanced away for a second, shifting her own feet underneath the table. Unlike Radley, Raynor was not the type to joke about career risks and nose guards, and Fauna hadn't expected unbridled enthusiasm in any case. But she was seeking more reassurance.

"Yeah. Er, sorry to spring it on you," she paused, biting her lip. "I've talked to my Head of House and a few other professors. They've all been really supportive, if a little... surprised."

That was the thing. There was a chance her professors at Hogwarts wouldn't tell her, or didn't know her well enough to judge if she was making the right choice, but Raynor would.

"Do you think..." Fauna trailed off. She'd just have to say it bluntly. "I know I've come a long way since September, and I have you to thank for that." And Tulo and Radley of course, but Raynor's opinion was the most important to Fauna at the moment. "And I think that I've sort of... I mean, I'm okay in Defence now. Well, better than okay. But," she paused, struggling to get her thoughts together. Raynor had almost said training, Fauna could have sworn it, which was a good sign.

"Do you think that's enough? The Defence, and getting into Potions and Transfiguration again... that I might be able to make it into Auror training, if I wanted to? Do you think I should go for it?"

A very tough question, Fauna thought. There was a difference between these lessons and actual Auror training, a difference between doing well now in Defence and making up for years when she had not done so well.

Auror Training. The two-word phrase was like a Killing Curse to the chest. Her heart did not stop but it sunk to the pit of her stomach.  Any false hope she had managed by convincing herself that Fauna Blake had decided to suddenly become a Healer vanished in a flash of imaginary green light and was replaced by a sense of dread. Keeping her expression carefully neutral the Head Auror tried to keep the abrupt emotion from her face, but her eyes were troubled as she reconsidered the Hufflepuff student.

She recalled the blue, wide-eyed girl from their first meeting, starring down the business side of Raynor’s wand as she stood pale and shaking over Akiva Katz’ unconscious form. Her eyes were still blue and deceptively innocent, but there was strength there. Tamis had never meant for Fauna to verify that she had a target drawn on her forehead. Yet she had, facing and overcoming many obstacles in her last year at Hogwarts. She was strong, stronger than she probably realized, but she was developing an inclination.

Tamis Raynor, who did her very best to pretend she was heartless, had decided to help Fauna with her defensive work because she had seen so much of herself in that naive, disarming encounter.  She had wanted to teach Blake how to defend herself, so that the real world did not catch her as off-guard as it had Raynor. Not lead her down the same path. There had been a strong Auror influence in the Hufflepuff’s life recently, current or retired. She had come a long way since September, Fauna said. And she had Raynor to thank for it. However flattering, it was not as reassuring as she was sure the young woman intended it to be.

The Head Auror could not help wonder if that instead of sheltering the girl from danger, if she had not inadvertently  encouraged danger. Seven months ago, the idea of entering the Auror Academy would have never occurred to the seventeen year old.

Selfishly, Tamis wanted to tell Fauna no. That it was not enough.  That she did not think it was a very good idea at all. But she did not have the right. It was not her life to dictate and lead and plan out for the young woman. It was Fauna’s life with her choices and her decisions. Her personal goals for working with Fauna did not factor into this equation. She had to brave enough to accept that. So instead she asked, before going any further,

“Why do you want to be an Auror, Fauna?”

It was not the Head Auror asking.

The concern in Tamis' eyes startled her, and Fauna rethought everything she'd just said, worried that she'd offended her by talking to the professors first, or something else. She knew little to nothing about Tamis' past and motivations. Unlike Tulo or Greyfriar, who revealed some things about themselves, Tamis was very private, which led Fauna to view the Head Auror as a sort of a 'noble defender'. Idealized.

Raynor's question was very valid, though it made Fauna's stomach jump. Her professors hadn't delved much into her reasons, and Fauna hadn't yet tried to put her fragmented thoughts into words.

She paused, expression thoughtful and serious. "Have you ever... I don't know... felt changed by experiences? And you can't really go back to the person you used to be?"

Fauna looked for something in her expression before continuing on. "And it's like, I don't want to go back. I like who I am better now. I'm not just, um... looking for a way to survive the school year, anymore."

She hesitated again, giving her an earnest but self-conscious look. "I know it sounds corny, but I do want to help people. If you hadn't helped me, I don't know where I'd be right now," she admitted quietly. "But this isn't something I'm thinking about out of gratefulness," Fauna tried to reassure her. "I'm not sure how to explain it."

Have you ever felt changed by experiences? And you can't really go back to the person you used to be? There was far too much irony in this situation.

She was not sure if the in sincere earnestly, pleading expression sitting across the table made her feel better or worse. Leaning back, she started to habitually draw her hand back through her hair before she stopped herself. Not daring to risk a cursory glance for Tulojow, whom was no doubt lurking somewhere, the Auror kept her concentration solely on Fauna. Yes. She had most certainly felt that way.

Fifteen years ago, she would never have dreamed of become an Auror – would have laughed the suggestion off. She had found the Corps a suppressive and controlling double-ended wand, giving purpose to as much crime as it resolved.  She had been a pacifist. She had been naďve; ignorant. And then her world had been turned upside down and the innocent view of it stripped away, she had been given a new purpose. Experiences shaped and molded a person, every individual in a person’s life helped in that metamorphosis.

The difference between Fauna and Tamis was that Tamis wished she could go back. It was an integral difference. A defining one. One she could gladly accept. It was what Fauna wanted. Some of the tension left the Head Auror.

“It is a good explanation,” she finally said, quietly. A pause, a brief yet weighty consideration, and then she added with a smirk that was intended to be light-hearted, “I wanted to be a Healer before I became an Auror. Even complete a year of training.” The smirk became a touch more genuine, if not more jovial, “Obviously, I changed my mind.” Something about the statement made it clear that she did not intend to expand on that story.

“Not every Auror has to have always wanted to be an Auror to succeed as one,” she said, lifting her hands out to her side to exemplify herself. Hard work, stubborn determination, and a very cruel old man with a limp and a walking stick[1] had helped her get to where she was. But Fauna did not need to know that either.

“But you have to understand what you are becoming,” she readapted her somber tone. Do not discourage, she reminded herself, just be honest. “It is not like our lessons; I have been teaching you techniques fitting for civilian defense. Aurors are as much offense as defense.  There is little glory in it. You become a servant to the Ministry and the people – and sometimes you have to look like the bad guy to the public in order to be the good guy. You do not make plans more than a week in advance, Fauna. Aurors can never be certain if they will be around to honor them.”

 She was not trying to scare the girl, but she had to understand. “The payoff is magnificent when it happens, but it does not always happen. You would see many things you wish you had not. You will not be able to share your work  with your family– nor will you likely want to. It is a hard life,” she concluded.

1.	[June 25 2004] Changing of the Guard

Fauna raised her eyebrows in surprise when Tamis told her she hadn't always wanted to be an Auror. Fauna had known she'd had training in Healing, but she wasn't aware of the career change, and wondered what had prompted it.

She settled back in her seat more comfortably, relieved that Raynor had a small smile on her face, that she seemed to understand where Fauna was coming from.

“Not every Auror has to have always wanted to be an Auror to succeed as one,” she said, lifting her hands out to her side to exemplify herself.

This was perhaps one of the most reassuring things Raynor could have said. Fauna nodded and swallowed. Certain people seemed to be born for the role of Auror. People like Dion, Josh, and Kit, who had a natural assertiveness and authoritativeness. Fauna was not the typical candidate. She was soft-spoken, mild-mannered, and worried a lot. She felt things deeply and reacted expressively (and often inarticulately when really thrown). Though she was getting much better at defending herself and looking out for others, she didn't seek attention or conflict. She wasn't a regular member of the Dueling club. She was the only one who had thrown up at the sight of a severed arm during Defence.

So many things that screamed Not-Auror.

As Raynor went on to explain the realities of the career, Fauna recognized her darker tone and felt her stomach drop a bit. She had a hard time thinking that far ahead. It was scary enough to imagine moving out of her mum's house and living with friends, graduating from Hogwarts and attempting this thing called Real Life. And her family had always been her backbone. Keeping them involved would only get harder and harder as Fauna became an adult, even more so if Fauna became an Auror.

However, these were realities Fauna needed to hear. She tried her best to listen, to push away the slight disappointment that Raynor wasn't ecstatic about the idea. That too, was something she wouldn't have had the maturity to do a year ago.

"You're right," she said, gleaning a vague understanding of the hours Tamis put into her job, remembering articles that ripped apart the MLE, and trying to imagine how difficult it must be to lose a case, or someone's life.

"It's hard to really know... what I'm getting myself into until I try it," she smiled slightly. "I mean, I might be miserable, or I might be terrible at it. And the sacrifices might not be worth the... good things."

Fauna frowned for a moment. "But what if I'm good at it? What if I find out it's worth it? I guess... the idea of not trying bothers me more than going for it and possibly figuring out it's not what I want."

Of course, 'trying it' had the potential for ruining her or killing her in the process, and this reality lurked in the back of her thoughts. There was much less risk with a regular desk job.

She looked at her, opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again. "Do you... like being an Auror? Er, the Head Auror? Is it... I mean, what makes you do it?" Fauna asked honestly, curiously.

Quite to the contrary of the young woman’s thoughts, the Head Auror thought Fauna Blake would be a one-of-a-kind Auror. She did not fit the stereotype, but the stereotype was the stereotype because those individuals did not stand out – did not make an impression. Diversity was integral in Aurors. Different perspectives, different ways of looking at a crime scene, are what made the Corps successful as a team. Blake had compassion, which would be her strength and weakness, but she also had an innate ability to understand others and how they thought. She was level headed and versatile. A quick leaner with unyielding work ethic and determination. Loyal. Professional, Blake was a recruit she wanted in her service. But the Head Auror’s professional wants were at war with Tamis Raynor’s personal ones.

So she listened and listened carefully. And the more she heard, the more her doubt was molded into pride. What if she was good at it. What if it was worth it. She had to try.  Letting out a deep breath, Raynor finally inclined her head. The gesture was as much acknowledgement as it was resignation. Clearly, this was not a spur of the moment contemplation, and discussing it was Raynor was a more concluding gesture than a preliminary one. Very well.

“Yes, Fauna,” she finally said, going back to the original questions. “You have improved infinitely since September with Defense. If you show the same resolve, I have confidence.” It was selfish to say no or discourage, she reminded herself. Arching an eyebrow, she leaned forward a little, “and I daresay you do have connections.”

Leaning back into a more normal sitting stance, she clasped her hands in front of her, very instructionally. “But it will be challenging. Aurors are known for being the elite of the Wizarding World, and it is a reputation we do not take lightly.” They were currently severely understaffed and underfunded and would likely have more leniency this year, but that was not nearly as dramatic. “In addition to meeting the basal education requirements, you have to pass a month’s worth of practical adequacy exams before even being considered for the Academy. And then it is three strenuous years before you earn your badge – and not everyone does.” Reality. She was stressing reality, and in the end, it came down to one cold hard fact, “You have to want it. More than anything else.”

And that was the reason the Academy was as harsh and long and involved as it was. Aurors had to be kept alive and multi-talented, but they also had to be reliable and dedicated.

What happened next though, Raynor did not foresee. Did she like being an Auror? The petite woman actually blinked.

That was a very loaded and personal inquiry to ask of her. And not one many would have. It caught her off-guard when she in reality should have expected it. It was a fair turnaround; she had asked Fauna and now Fauna was asking her. Leaning back in her chair, her hand actually made it through her hair this time, starting at her forehead and streaking down to the tips of the strands. It was a very loaded question.

“Sometimes we choose our fate… and sometimes it chooses us,” she started slowly, carefully enunciating. It was the easiest way to both answer and avoid the question of whether or not she liked her job. The rest of it was easier. “Someone has to “do it” and I rather make that sacrifice than let someone else make it for me.” The grinning face of Tait Aldridge floated to the forefront of her memories. She smiled through the suppression of the memory for Fauna’s sake.  She would never let someone make that sacrifice for her ever again.  “Healers and Aurors have one commonality; they both save lives. They just go about it differently.”

A smile lit up Fauna's face when Raynor told her she had come a long way, and that she had confidence in her. The comment about connections was not only true, but funny. She sometimes felt like most of the Auror department had adopted her over the past year.

Fauna listened carefully as Raynor detailed what training would be like, how difficult it would be, and that only the people who really wanted it would succeed. And that for some, wanting it wouldn't be enough.

When Fauna turned the tables on her and asked why she was an Auror, Raynor was taken aback enough to run her hand through her hair, which Fauna had only seen happen a few times before. Fauna opened her mouth, about to tell her that she didn't have to answer, when the woman started to explain.

The answer was vague and cryptic. It might just be her imagination, but Raynor's smile looked a bit sad.

"I think I understand a little," Fauna said slowly, meeting her eyes.

"It's better to... shoulder the responsibility than to lose it, or ignore it. You don't feel right asking someone else to do it, and at least you know... things are being done the way you want them to? It becomes a part of who you are. Kind of."

Though there was a huge difference between a student club and an important position in the Ministry, Fauna was comparing it to how she felt about SAWS. She was doing her best to relate with the bits of information Raynor had given her.

She'd noticed that Raynor hadn't answered if she liked the job, however. Fauna supposed it wasn't a position where you'd skip in everyday, grinning, and pinning smiley faces to the badges. But she must get something out of it.

"Was Healing not what you thought it would be?" She wondered out loud, voice hesitant. Raynor seemed talented at many things, and Fauna saw her as someone who could have excelled in quite a few areas of the Ministry (save, perhaps, Muggle relations). She was curious about what had caused Raynor to choose one method of saving lives over another.

The seventeen year old had a natural talent.  If the Head Auror was not such a carefully guarded person, she might have gushed her entire life story to those big bright imploring eyes. As it were, she was still considering answering questions that from another she would have curtly ignored. And there was that divine intuition.  It was very much a part of her. She almost asked if, based on the understanding of her motives, if Fauna could guess what crimes she would likely commit. But she refrained.

“The Corps is a lifestyle, not a career. Aurors do not retire; they just choose to live their lives differently. Start another chapter.” It was very, very difficult not to glance around cursorily for Tulojow Nadge. The woman would no doubt fine some personal irony in those words. “But you have to be able to tell one end of a broom from the other before you can ride it. Concentrate on preparing for your examinations and worry about the future later.” If Tamis Raynor had been the type of personally to wink knowingly then she might have. But she remained as passive as ever. “One week a time, it will be good practice.”

Raynor knew why Fauna asked the next question. She was not purposely trying to pry out details of the Head Aurors past for trivia’s sake. She was trying to relate to the experiences, compare them to her own change of plans to join the Aurors. Trying to use the answers to help her decide if applying was really what she wanted to do. But with so much about that carefully isolated part of her past escaping her rigorous security, the question was too much on a personal level. It was too close to a home Fauna did not even realize she had the coordinates to. There was only so many ways she could dodge a direct answer before she would have to lie.

 “No. It was exactly as I thought it would be,” she said simply, definitively. “As you said, Ms. Blake, sometimes people just change.”  Sometimes people just change, she repeated. She was dedicated to her career, lived for it even. She would die defending the Wizarding World and she believed there was good in the Ministry for its bureaucracy. She was a good soldier and a good lawman and her name Meant Something in the Ministry of Magic. But she was a far cry from the deviously mischievous young woman who had been foolishly in love with the world. Fauna Blake would not recognize the Tamis Raynor she had been at her age. Did she regret it?   

“However, it is a bit premature to start on your interrogation techniques,” she added pointedly, standing up from the table. The mental and emotional retraction from the Hufflepuff was almost tangible, however politely it had been done. It was nothing the girl had done. Tamis Raynor just had her reasons for being a private person. “Let us see what your definition of transfiguration is, then. So we can figure out how to fix it.” The comment almost sounded suspiciously like a joke. Emotional avoidance through humor was a requirement in the Handbook of Being British, after all.

Fauna gave her a startled look, surprised and more than a little embarrassed by Raynor's abrupt response. She felt torn between offering an apology and defensively explaining herself. The 'Ms. Blake' stung, only because she'd gotten so used to being called by her first name.

She silently watched her rise from the table, and opened her mouth to say something, then closed it. Interrogation techniques? Fauna must have struck a nerve somewhere. She just didn't understand where. Raynor had gone from talking about lifestyle choices, slipping in a little joke about taking it one week at a time for practice, to making it very clear that question and answer time was over.

"I'm sorry," she offered softly, all the while knowing Raynor hated apologies when things could be solved with action, especially after she'd already tried to change to subject to Transfiguration. Fauna smoothed out the last of the hurt and confusion on her face, putting up a barrier of her own.

"Right, Transfiguration," she said, missing the implied joke. "Well, the simple definition... it's changing a thing from one form to another, but not, well... not necessarily changing what the thing is. Like people who are animagi still have, you know, their human thoughts. Or if someone turns an animal into stone, is the statue still that animal? That's where it gets fuzzy, I guess."

Fauna had taken Raynor's statement very literally, her mind still stuck on how she'd reacted earlier. She shifted in her seat and looked at her uncertainly, just then realizing that the Auror might have been looking for something else from her.