Sitting under a brightly covered umbrella sat a tiny witch in jeans, boots, and a semi-fashionable grey jacket with a mandarin collar.  Leaning over the green table with a book in hand Covi waited for her tea.  It was something she had not tried before, and what better day than a Saturday to explore some fresh tastes before having to go into Head Quarters to get some work done in the peace and quite of an empty floor.

It was called Chai Bengali Spice.  Normally she had her tea black and strong, but today was a nice, sunny day with a bit a breeze, most appropriate for something sweet and light.

Picking up her journal, the battered and stained covering exposed to the world now, she took a small plain white quill and jotted something down.  The wind suddenly picked up one of the longer blonde frays of her hair which had escaped her chignon, and was quite annoyed when it got stuck to her lips.  Rolling her eyes she pushed it back, only to have it smack her in the eyes next.  With a whine she sat up, put the journal and quill down and took the strand and tucked it back into the bun and then tightened it so it wouldn’t dare try another stunt like that.

Feeling a presence next to her she looked up with a grin, expecting her waiter to have returned with her drink and snack, only to be surprised by being looked at by a stranger. 

Blinking thrice she asked, “May I help you?”

Sitting in the corner of a cafe he frequented, Simon munched on the end of a scone while his tea cooled. Placing the scone down again on the plate in front of him. Simon was nursing some what of a headache, and that lead him to nurse his tea like milk that morning. If he hadn't stayed out the night before gambling away his worries he might not have been in such a state, that however was neither here nor there.

He broke even by dawn and was sitting pretty an hour later. With a quick nap back in his hammock at the broken down flat Simon shared with Ky. Leaving her there to nap a little longer Simon had given her some of the money he gained that night and left her to start his day in the alley.

Looking down on one of the papers he had picked up that morning, Simon found one prattling on about the rights of Werewolves and their plight. The pitfalls mirrored his own, so of course he was drawn to it like a moth to a flame. When he looked to see who had such insight, Simon found the picture of a young woman staring back at him. Not what he had expected at all.

Gazing up from his article his eyes focused on someone sitting away from him. The person sitting there was none other than this Covadonga Gertrudis character sitting in the very tea shoppe he was. So of course Simon wanted to know if she was worth all the pretty little words she put on paper. Grabbing up his magazine he approached and looked at her for a bit as he waited for her to acknowledge him. "I don't know if you can..." he placed the article before her looking at it before looking at her, "Is what you have here how you actually feel?" Werewolf rights being what they were, he hardly felt anyone was actually out there fighting the 'good' fight. Not unless there was something ultimately in it for them.

Looking down, she saw staring up her a picture of herself, grinning, waving, and smiling.  Ah, her article, or at least one of the many she had started circulating with the help of Jason Marren and some family member of his.

With a cockeyed grin she used her quill as a bookmark and shut her journal, placing it on top of the magazine.  Making eye contact with the man staring above her she motioned toward the empty chair across from them, “Care to take a seat?”

He must be one of the first to contact her on this, after all the first batch of publications she had sent her piece to must have only been printed a few days ago.  Ah, the wonders of magic.  Nevertheless, it was good to see someone was interested, interested enough to question her intentions.  While it hurt to think that someone would do that, she had readied herself for such speculation.  None of these readers knew her or her past.  Judging by the very question he asked and the air about him he must have been werewolf.

Just then her chai and two chocolate and ginger cookies arrived.  After thanking the waiter she returned her attention back to the young man.  “Since I was a child,” she answered.  She would leave him to ask more questions.  Covadonga did not mind being put under this kind of inquisition.  Much different than the Daily Prophet would probably put her through.

Her father was very pro-equality, something which her mother and the whole side of her family argued with him about.  Roberto Sr. had never forced his ideals upon her, but once she had learned the truth of the treatment of other magical beings a good chunk of her innocence had broken off of her childhood.  Little Covi had vowed to one day help people understand magical creatures and how to humanely treat them even if they do turn violent, so why not add beings to that list?  On the outside she looked very much like here mother, but on the inside she was very much her father… except for the addition of willing to actually do something about it instead of sitting on your bum and talking about it.

Simon wasn't towering her, not by any stretch. Though he stood over her for only a brief moment his height was not an imposing or even that high to begin with. So taking the seat across from her, his height was much like her own. Now they were eye to hey his blue eyes meeting her own piercing baby blues.

His curiosity was there. Simon as always wore his leather gloves, they hid the scars and marks of his affliction as well as kept him safe from harming himself further. He had to wear them wherever he went, be it to walk through the alley or just paying for something. The gloves were what kept him safe from ordinary objects.

His brow furrowed a bit, he wasn't sure how much he believed that. "Since you were a child you had sympathetic feelings towards werewolves? Forgive me if I don't spring right up to believe it. I mean honestly, I haven't met anyone who had those sorts of opinions without being involved with a werewolf in some form." Maybe he had been too blunt, but it was how he acted.

It truly perplexed him. The Reid family was very close minded. They kept to themselves and stopped any free thought. So being sympathetic to creatures or beings of any sort was out of the question. Hell even when he was a child himself he held onto those very notions. It wasn't until his own attack that Simon found out there was a whole other world out there. A world that was stigmatized and looked down upon. He was a part of that now. Much to his chagrin.

Quietly she listened to him, taking a few sips from her tea before answering.

“I can understand,” she started slowly, “it is a very sad thing that one has to jump to such conclusions though,” she picked up a cookie and took a bite and swallowed, “that is one of the things I am trying to fix.”

Taking another sip and a bite she reflected on her past, working with beast and beings all over the globe.  Centaurs, mermen, the Nundu, and dragons just to name a few were things which the majority did not wholly understand, and because of this ignorance up sprouted fear, which usually turned into violence or it was ignored, swept under the rug as if it were never there.

Yes, many creatures were violent, but there were many reasons behind it.  The only creatures with dark intentions where those which were associated with dark magic which, oddly enough, were few and far between.  If only people could see the how’s and why’s… maybe then they could comprehend the situation.

One of her missions after really getting into the nitty-gritty of forming the new werewolf office was to abolish the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures.  If anything the people who had dealt with creature should have been “disposed of”.  Normally it was their fault, either out of malcontent or just because they weren’t knowledgeable enough to know the proper thing to do.  While she could not wholly stop the former, Covi believed it to be one of her duties to take care of the latter.

Pushing her plate forward after setting her tea to rest on its saucer for a moment she offered, “Cookie?” with a smile.

"You'll have to beg my pardon if I have trouble believing someone is out there anymore for the greater good. I haven't seen the other side of criticism for quite some time and it makes me a tad cynical," which by nature Simon was anyway, but this was the first time he read of someone supporting his cause. Supporting people who had Lycanthropy instead of shoving them into a category and locking the gate. It wasn't everyday you found a sympathetic person, and when you did generally their sympathies had an influence of some sort. Financial if anything.

Looking to where he once sat, Simon saw his cup, saucer, and scone had been lifted from the table and a family had taken it's place. Annoyed he allowed the waiter time to return to his table he now shared with Covadonga and ordered another tea with a scone. Hopefully this time Simon would have time to eat them both. Pulling out his leather money pouch, which he had knicked from his father's house at the same time he grabbed his ever present gloves, he pulled out a silver piece and paid for his items.

"It's dreadfully hard not to jump to things when you are conditioned to. Perhaps you can indulge me with a few questions. Other than getting yourself ostracized in the process what do you hope to achieve with these articles? I see the point in writing them, but not suffering from the affliction yourself, makes me wonder if it's worth what you may go through in the hopes of spreading you message." The message of equality was penned fine in the article. Even in places where it did not come out and say it.

Articulate, from what he could tell. Someone taking up the mantle of a cause not their own. Such an odd concept, one lost on Simon for many years. He wondered if Kyrene had seen the article yet. Granted her English was a little rough, if he needed to he could read it to her that evening.

Shaking his head Simon gave her a crooked smile, "No thanks" he replied politely when she offered him a cookie. A scone would be fine, besides he didn't want to take food from the woman, he was just curious of her intentions.

After taking a sip she sighed.  Covi figured she was going to have to deal with many people like this young man sitting in front of her.  It was actually quite good that she had been confronted in this manner so early, and a blessing to have someone with enough gumption to do it in person.  Most werewolves were flibbertigibbets, so used to taking to the shadow lest they themselves were confronted.

She began to answer his question after his tea arrived, but of course not before wondering what it was… but that would be something to ask later.  He was the one asking the questions now. 

“I hope to achieve taking a small step towards equality across the Magical World,” Covi had been changing her vocabulary by say Magical instead of Wizarding, it was too prejudice.  “Next would be Goblins, then Centaurs, and on and on,” she took a bite from her cookie, there was just enough ginger to complement the spice of the chai, “discrimination seems to be the root of many of the wars which have occurred in our community.  Too many lives have been lost over something as silly as race, species, and blood purity,” she added a mischievous grin, “plus, we have lots to learn from each other.  Powerful forms of magic, the divination from Centaurs can warn us all of things to come so we can take it on together instead of them keeping it to ourselves, the Goblins have wandless magic from which everyone may benefit by keeping everyone safe from the Muggle population instead of just,” she thumbed her finger behind her, “Gringotts.”

It was a pitch she had been working on to hook in the ambitious and studious types who would otherwise question, what is the point?  So much power could be distributed equally amongst all the magical species.  Personally, she didn't care too much for it.  To her it was quite fun if they all had some of their secrets kept to themselves.  It made things all the more interesting.

Write an article that sympathizes with a group of some of the most feared beings in the wizarding world and expect such questions. Simon had read plenty of articles on werewolves, most of them damning the people to an unfortunate future and brutal death. There were rarely articles which sparked compassion for his lot. In fact in all his years as a were he never remembered there being one. This might have been the only one he had ever noticed, ever.

Thumbing the pages absentmindedly Simon looked at this woman before him again. She was the opposite of him in so many ways. From the physical male female aspect down to the color of their hair. Then when you got down to the brass tacks of the argument she had hope. Simon hadn't tasted hope in so long, he could hardly imagine what it was like. To hope for equality? Ha. It was almost laughable. You had to fight for it, for sure but would it be taken?

There were plenty of times sleeping on the floor with Ky, as he came back from his night where Simon ran for hours without stopping ,that he wondered what he was doing. Would life be different if he was still an auror and had a steady paycheck? Simon sipped his tea as he mulled the questioned over in his head wordlessly. Would he had gone into petty crime to keep himself fed? There was a possibility he would still be working for the ministry if he hadn't been outcast the moment his attack became public knowledge. They had turned their backs so fast on him Simon often figured they had caused whiplash of some sort.

Simon had heard a speech like this once before. While in school someone was mocking an older Gryffindor girl. One who spent time with the boy who lived. She had apparently been all into equality. Simon could careless then, well that and it was about house elves from what he gathered. Not exactly a race he cared to worry about, even now as he was nothing more then pushed aside by society, House elves were not really something he worried about.

"So let me get this straight you want all of us to be equal with the likes of regular witches and wizards? How do you plan to go about that? I mean honestly with werewolf registration and fines galore it makes it difficult for anyone to feel truly equal. I don't see normal types getting in trouble of any sort for not going in for a regular check up with a medi-wizard. Why should anyone else be subject to something they never wanted in the first place?" Simon crossed his arms as the anger started to creep into his head. Bitter, always so very bitter. Taking another sip of his tea, Simon pulled off a piece of scone and popped it into his waiting mouth.

The witch watched him as he went through the magazine again, deep in thought.  On the other side of the table Covi simply observed him, the shaggy hair, the gloves, the scar on his face, his body language and expressions.  She didn’t really wonder or question about it yet, just took it all in and translated it in a way she understood.

"So let me get this straight you want all of us to be equal with the likes of regular witches and wizards? How do you plan to go about that? I mean honestly with werewolf registration and fines galore it makes it difficult for anyone to feel truly equal. I don't see normal types getting in trouble of any sort for not going in for a regular check up with a medi-wizard. Why should anyone else be subject to something they never wanted in the first place?"

“Hmm…” she mumbled to herself in the middle of a sip, letting him have his say.  How was she going to answer these questions without letting on she was the Department Head?  At the bottom of each article along with her name she was described as a Ministry Worker and nothing more.

“Those check-ups are not just for the safety of the majority,” she started, leaning forward and putting her elbows on the table.  “It is meant also to keep tabs on where you live, so in case the Ministry hears of trouble in that area they can get to the lycan more quickly and save them from the torches and pitchforks,” along with the hexes and curses.  “In addition once they have caught the werewolf they know where the nearest secured safehouse is if their own in their home or the other safehouse they came from was insecure,” it was true, but they hardly knew this as most do not recall what was happening while they were transformed.

She grimaced weakly, “Also it is to make sure we know where the nearest towns and other dense populations are,” Covi took a sip, “as you may know some people hate werewolves so much they break into their homes and unlock the saferoom.  We know where to go first to investigate and apprehend suspects.”  There was so much they did not know… because her predecessors thought it was best to keep it that way in order to save costs if they didn’t have enough personnel to do the job, which was full of dungbombs.

And now, the genuine smile as she nearly whispered, “I hear the Support Services, Registry, and the Capture Unit are going to be reformed into a general office.  The one in charge of such affairs will be installing new and improved services to help the werewolf population, including sending out education representatives to go out into the ‘regular’ populace to teach people more about lycanthropy.”  She would stop there for now unless he wanted more.  Covi didn’t want to talk his ear off so much that he would become disinterested.

Ministry workers were not to be trusted, not anymore. Perhaps another day and another time he might believe the nonsense they spewed. This was the first time a long time he found anything from a ministry official almost palatable enough to swallow without gagging. His distrust in her sentiments of peace and equality were evident by the look on his face when she tried to reiterate it to him once more.

Simon didn't know how well she could read his expressions, or his mood but if she was worth her salt she would know who he was. Or what or that matter since he never mentioned his name. When working for the ministry, Simon had been completely enthralled in his activities and it wasn't until the attack that the blinders were taken off and he saw the truth. That most of the witches and wizards in the ministry wouldn't blink twice to see you vanish from a position if it made their prospects a little better.

Sure that was a gross generalization but he wasn't exactly on the side of the ministry anymore.

"Those check-ups are more than for safety purposes, you know that as well as I do. Keep them drugged up and keep them out of the way, that's the ministry's take on it. You can't sweep a whole race under the carpet that easy," Simon pursed his lips as he said this slowly and deliberately.  "It's not just paranoia either, many are so stigmatized that just by registering they get moved out of their current jobs and moved else where if not removed entirely. How is someone supposed to make a legitimate living wage when you can't get a job with a big ministry red stamp of W on your forehead?" It was a scarlet letter that he wore since he registered, no one wanted to touch him. Not his job, not his family, no one. Well except Ky but that was another situation all on it's own. "I am well aware of how people hate werewolves..." As if he wasn't.

"New and improved you say? How improved? If you don't mean tagging us and throwing us back in the wild for study and tracking," Simon tried to bite his tongue a bit as the words came out. He wasn't angry with this woman, she did nothing to him. It was more ministry related aggrivation pent up over the years. "Excuse me that shouldn't be directed towards you. It is not your fault..." That I lost everything, he finished in his mind.

As he talked, she herself became angry, feeding off of his energy, her eyes turning grey.  She looked into his eyes, her gaze never straying once, hardly blinking as she observed his every movement, twitch, and intonation.

Out of his bitterness she suspected he was a former Ministry Worker, shamed out of his position when he was turned.  Covadonga’s eyes darted across his face left and right as she went through the files of her brain, searching through the Werewolf registry list.  Oh Merlin on high… he had been a former Auror too.  No doubt sent off to investigate the werewolf who had bitten him.  Briefly the Department Head wondered what his positions were on the equality debate before he had become a werewolf.  That would be an interesting study, to become the thing you were trained to abhor and hunt.

Simon Reid had not shown up in HQ or Mungo’s in… bloody knows how long.  She couldn’t go that far back into his folder without thumbing the pages to the back.

The sun shifted, and where she was seated under the umbrella was no longer in shadow.  Almost, as if there was a pop, her eyes went pale as the other half of her—which usually sat quietly in the back of her head, pacing like a panther, waiting its turn to come out—appeared.  She noticed her hands had been grasping her glass until her knuckles were white.  Calming down she lowered her head, a rumbling growl coming out of her throat as she mumbled, “Not since I have been in charge…” 

Dungbombs… she had gone and done the unthinkable!  Her head shot up and her eyes met his.  Covi knew there would be know way she could retract it or cover it up with a throaty cough.  His hearing was far too keen.  She was so surprised and furious with herself, a swirl of ice and thunder shooting viciously across her brain.  She was unable to detail the improvements and changes which had already been implemented and were in store for the office she was so taken aback by her own tongue.

Anger, bitterness, and despair had been much of what he experienced for the first few years after the attack. He scowered the area looking for the creature who had bitten him and got away with it. But without getting a good enough look he never found them. No amount of hunting through the darkness and combing through the filth of the city had given Simon the answers he so richly deserved. Then slowly but surely he slipped into the decay of the world around him making himself a part of the back drop rather than fighting the criminals like he once had, he was cohabitating with them and not feeling any guilt for the actions.

When you are a werewolf there is no way to be honorably discharged from your current position in any job. In fact, if it wasn't for the attack Simon might very well have stayed with the ministry and kept in contact with his family. Then he was worth their breathe at least, never quite his sister or brother but he wasn't an untouchable. No it took a night doing his job to get him thrown into a whole other world.

There were plenty of reasons he avoided the the mandatory check-ups. For one he found them degrading, why should he be forced to tell them where he was or what he was up to. It's not like the were going to help him get back on his feet. Also Simon had a strong feeling in the pit of his stomach that if he ever got a decent job they would look him up and make his life a living hell once more just for the simple fact that they could.

When she said she was in charge Simon cocked a brown and raised a hand to his chin. Rubbing the stubble that had grown there since he woke that morning he shook his head. "Suppose I should have figured as much. Explains why you have a vested interest in the topic..." Simon's voice trailed off as he contemplated leaving or staying there.

Would she know who he was? Would she turn him in for skipping the mandate from the nannies in the ministry? The questions swirled about his mind like flies after a kill. Just because she supported the rights of werewolves didn't mean  she would look past him ignoring the rules set by her employer.

There was an odd grimace on her face along with a look of calm pride in her eyes as she relaxed, “Indeed,” little did he know the expression was a mask.  Covi did not trust him enough to show him physically how passionate she was about her job and this particular situation.  It might make him run and hide for all she knew… but… she doubted he was the type.

Sitting back with her cup she sipped, leaning to the side to get the last bit of shade the umbrella would let her have.  She really didn’t feel like using her wand over something so petty when there were more important things to attend to.

“You are a very smart young man, Mr. Reid,” sure he was probably just around Covi’s age, but her “old soul” as her family and friends have referred to her as often pushed her to regard nearly everyone younger than her, even her uncles with the great bit bushy beards.  “But be assured that the department and that office and particular are not what they used to be,” she said lowly as she added with an intense look, “I have made sure of that.”

Covadonga shook her head as she sat up and took up her last cookie, “I do not blame you for ermm… shall we say ‘forgetting’ to check-in,” she used such terms deliberately, because if he did decide to come back, that is what would be put in his file.  After all, he was just trying to make a living, right?  Poor guy, who knows what he must have been doing to try and replace his job, there were awful things out there most werewolves had to stoop too to live.  “My predecessor was not worthy enough to be the skidmarks in Merlin’s knickers,” she said rudely.

That was an odd thing to say for Covi…  Most of the time she was very demure and polite, but as she was speaking she found more and more that panther in the back of her mind slowly stalking forward.  She figured it was better for him to have a little light and breathe some fresh air.  After all, the only times she had been able to let him out now was in the privacy of her own home or in other secret outlets.

Putting her elbows on the circular table she asked, “Would there be any chance that you would come back?  I could definitely use your input in the early stages of set up,” hell, she might consider him the man to head up the whole sector.  She had been itching to put a werewolf in there.  Covi wanted desperately to show that lycans could hold any other job that any regular witch or wizard could.  Every simple step she could take to break down these nonsensical notions she would.

Whatever mask he had himself had slipped right off and dropped to his feet. For as much as he knew now that she was a department head, she would have to be dumb deaf and blind to not see what he was. What he had become from one choice night of following orders up the stairs to his destiny. Maybe if he had a will of his own back then, to say that he was uncomfortable running blind into the darkness or if he had even realized it then things would have turned out completely different.

Sipping the now ice cold tea before him he almost choked when she said his name. No one called him Mr. Reid. Not anymore. "That's my father's name. You can refer to me as Simon or Si if you don't mind." His father made his stomach sick. That man was a boil on society that Simon would be happy to lance with something sharp and preferably rusted.

"Smart, well I haven't heard that in quite sometime. You seem to have a horribly skewed view of me though. I am not all that intelligent, if I was I would have just passed without making myself known to a ministry member," his eyes met her cool blue gaze with a set of equally icy ones. His eyes scanned her trying to place the blonde and he was curious why he just couldn't make her for who she was while he was in the ministry.

Where she was demure and subdued, Simon kept to himself mostly. When he wasn't off drinking anyway. His activities included thievery and gambling to start. That wasn't exactly boding well for those who worked for respectable employers. Simon didn't give a damn though.

"Excuse me? I'm sorry... they wouldn't take me back. I am...well you obviously already know what I am so there is no need to get me barred from another establishment in hopes of getting my point across." His eyes darted down to the leather gloves again. His mind was raking over the words he heard and how they pounded his ear drums without mercy.

“Alright, Simon,” he grinned happily and nodded, “You may be free to call me Covi, then.”  With all friends and employees, even if they were her underlings, were on a first-name basis with her.  Most were far too used to it anyhow considering that she had been one of them.  While other Department Heads took the high-road once they were promoted, Covadonga did not see it that way.  Calling her by her full title was only necessary if people weren’t sure of the situation, like when Kia ran into Alex and Covi when she brought in the donuts.

However, she respectfully did not react to his expression, but tucked it away for processing later.

She gently retorted to his assumption about his intelligence, “No. You were both courageous and intelligent to confront me, you and I know very well how you physically outweigh me, and you are smart enough to not threaten me with aforementioned power though most would.”

Even when not transformed many powers, like the heightened senses, often carried over when they were human.  While not as strong as their other half, they were still more so than the average common man.  Sadly, she was correct in another point.  Many other bitter werewolves would have no qualms about dragging a Ministry Worker, especially one who worked in the RCMC, into a dark alleyway and deal with her as they pleased.  The population in general was getting more and more ticked off at how they had been treated the past centuries.

His last assumption elicited a quirked eyebrow, “As you may have guessed at this point, I have some power in the system.”  She smiled internally at the proposition, “if you were interested I could see what I could do.  You may start out with a non-paying job, like an intern and consultant first, but I can see you working up the ranks quickly with help.”

One of her biggest flaws… no one, no thing would stop her if she encountered an obstacle, and she would be damned if anything would try to stop this.  The Minister knew very well her track record.  Who know, he might have promoted her partly because of it.  Sure some of it was not a “normal” way to work, but it got things done, which was what the Ministry needed after so many years of people sitting with their thumbs up their bums.