Fenrir stared coldly at the were tiger in front of him. The old biddy was dressed like a fop. His satin waistcoat snugly fit his tough old frame. His muttonchops and mustache was carefully trimmed. His breeches out lined strong legs and his blocky hands were elegantly lifting a delicate teacup to his lips.

In front of a roaring fireplace several large pillows rested.

Fenrir smelled mint tea. The old Tom's cottage decorations were done in exotic greens and blues and reds with gold items depicting Tigers every where. Tigers fought, tigers rested, tigers pounced. Fenrir thought he might just vomit into the fancy expensive tiger vase near his foot.

No doubt the Malfoys would have gotten along famously with this old biddy. They could have all gotten together and had bloody balls and danced the fucking waltz and done everything the fucking aristocracy did to show everyone how much better they were then everyone else. Fenrir kept his face blank.

" We have concerns Angus."

The being in front of him set his tea down and then met Fenrirs deep blue eyes with his gold ones. " Would you like some tea Fenrir?"

" No. No I don't want any fu...I don't want any tea thank you Angus."

The were tiger looked amused. " In that case allow me to tell you that I don't care for your company one bit more then you care for mine. So state your business and leave if you please."

" We don't want any bloody magic folk tallying our numbers Angus. It's not their bloody business how many of us there are."

Angus nodded thoughtfully " If that were to swing both ways, if we were allowed to tally their numbers since we don't even have an estimate of how many folk live in the local villages would that not make up for what little they will know of us?"

Fenrir snarled " Why the sudden need to know about our numbers? It's a trap Angus we don't like it."

Angus sighed and stood up. Although Fenrir was huge for both a wolf and a man Angus damn near towered over him as a tiger breed. A fight would have been in question between the two but Angus had merely stood up to stretch and walk over to his desk covered in correspondence.

Fenrir's lip curled before he could stop it. Normally he had the highest respect for the big cats as they were one of the few that could kill werewolves during the full moon. Yet here was one that had been turned into a fucking secretary. It was disgusting really.

He suddenly realized there was a tense heavy silence. Angus face was stiff with irritation and he peered out from under his thick brows at Fenrir his golden eyes glowing with the same unholy light that was attribute to all shape shifters.

Fenrir smoothed his brow and respectfully dropped his eyes and closed his mouth so his teeth were covered and he was no longer snarling at the tiger being.

For a moment Angus continued to glare at Fenrir before finally looking down to his desk and brought up the paper work.

" Normally I wouldn't give a good God damn what you do and don't like Fenrir. You're insane and you belong in a prison or asylum. However since you are a free being and one of us so to speak I shall send a Owl letting the ministry know that they may count and make note of ONLY those who wish to participate in such a count. In which case you can hide your entire pack for all I care. That's the only concession I'm willing to make. We live peaceful lives now because we cooperate with the magic folk and live in harmony. That is something I will not put in jeopardy at all but especially not for you."

He scribbled a message on a parchment before continuing " However I don't wish to have fighting between the shape shifters either as we can't afford another battle." Angus looked up his face looking more tigerish then before his eyes glowing with a golden light.

" Anything else...Greyback? "

Fenrir gritted his teeth. He gave Angus a mocking bow. " No Angus it's enough to know you're kissing ass with the rest of them...for our sakes of course...come on boys."

They followed him out. As they were walking away a black owl flew out of the window with the return message firmly clutched in it's talons. Fenrir's wand tapped against his leg and he had to fight the urge to pull it out and simply send the were cat's house up in flames. He didn't mainly because he tried hard not to show off his powers. As far as he knew he was one of the few shape shifters that could use magic and he was the only one who could cast spells without uttering a word.

Fenrir sighed in irritation. Maybe he should pick a fight. Fighting never failed to make him feel better and if he fought another shifter well the odds were even as far as he was concerned. Besides he liked to think it toughened up his pack.

In a much finer mood Fenrir headed to town his eyes already moving around looking for a couple of likely targets.