"Merlin's beard, they are going insane in there," Joseph Blaine said as he walked into the Werewolf Isolation Center's monitoring room.

The larger of the two Hunters inside shrugged. "One of them probably bloodied themselves already. Drives them all nuts for the rest of the night."

"Isn't there anything you can do?"

"Like what? We can't give first aid to one while they're furry. Besides, if you think they're going nuts now, you should see what would happen if a human walked in there."

"A healthy human, you mean."

The Hunter rolled his eyes. "Right. Really, Seph, you might as well go home. We'll need you more in the morning than we do now."

Seph shrugged. "The Support Services Office isn't closed yet."

"Yeah, but it's not like any werewolves are going to come in for support right now, is it?"

Seph stepped to a large glass sphere, nearly three feet across, levitating in the center of the room. Floating around it were two golden rings at right angles to each other, one horizontal and one vertical, and a silver ring at right angles to both. "I want to see how bad it is. Show me how to work this thing."

"You don't really want to do that. You can't do anything anyway, and if it's really bad, it'll bother you for the rest of the night."

"Please show me anyway. Or I'll try to work it out myself."

"You might as well show him," said the shorter Hunter. He was slumped in a chair with his eyes closed and his arms crossed on his chest, trying to doze off. "He won't see anything new; he knows what they look like when they come out."

"All right, have it your way, but don't say I didn't warn you." The larger Hunter walked to the orb, pulled off his dragon hide glove, and put his hand on the glass. It brightened and faded into a view of the Isolation room. "You can walk around it if you want, but it's easier to move the rings," he said, taking the horizontal ring and sliding it to rotate the view of the room. He turned the vertical ring, and the viewpoint lowered. "The silver ring moves you closer to or farther from the center of the room."

As the Hunter returned to his seat, Seph turned the horizontal ring, surveying the boxes. Every werewolf was throwing themselves against their grate or forcing their snout between the bars. Several had already worn the fur off by rubbing against the steel. He stopped as he came upon a cage that was still, on the second of the three tiers. "Is this one empty?"

"None of them are empty," the near-dozing Hunter said, nodding in his chair. "There's always just enough boxes, no more and no less."

"There's no one moving in this one, though. You don't suppose they're seriously hurt, do you?"

"Oh, that's probably just Diz. Came in three sheets to the wind again, didn't he?"

"At least three," the larger Hunter said. "Had to put him on the first tier; couldn't lift him up any higher than that."

"This is on the second tier, though," Seph said.

"Second tier?" The larger Hunter returned to Seph's side and studied the image in the glass sphere. "Well, I don't see any blood on it. Wonder who's in there?"

"It's box 28," Seph said, reading off the number underneath it. "Don't you remember who you put in there?"

"Buggered if I can keep them all straight."

Seph pointed his wand at the globe and ordered, "Lumos." A beam of light shone from the tip, passing through the glass and into the Isolation center.

The larger Hunter snickered. "You don't think you can tell them apart once they're furred, do you?"

Seph's eyes widened as Hermione looked up at the bright light, shakily lifting an arm to shield her eyes. "She's not transformed."

"What do you mean, she's not transformed?"

"Look. That woman's not a werewolf."

The larger Hunter cursed. "We've got a no-go down there."

Already the smaller Hunter was reaching for the dragon hide hoods they'd left on the counter. He tossed one to his partner and put the other on, then pulled a dragon hide tarpaulin from under the counter. "Why do people do that? You think they'd prefer St. Mungo's."

Hermione looked up as the door to the circular room slammed open. It was the same two men who had brought her down here—or at least, she assumed it was the same two. It was impossible to tell when they were covered from head-to-toe with dragon hide. The frantic barking and snarling of the werewolves grew, and the straining, reaching snouts turned towards them. They pointed their wands towards the cages adjoining Hermione's and released multiple stunners, and sharp yips of pain cut through the din of the room. She threw her hands over her ears, trying to block it out.

The steel grid at the front of her cell slid open, and the larger of the Hunters placed a dragon hide tarp to shield from the werewolf below if it recovered from the Stunners. "Come here. Quick, before they shake it off."

As best she could with her limbs sluggish from the tranquilizing spell, Hermione pulled herself forward. As soon as she was within reach, he grabbed her and pulled her out of the box. Her legs collapsed as she put her weight on them, and the second Hunter caught her and held her up as the first wrapped the tarp around her. She gagged from the smell of leather and tanning potions as they pulled her from the room and closed the door behind them, muffling the sound of the werewolves.

Seph was outside. As the Hunters pulled the tarp off her, he conjured a chair and helped Hermione to a seat. "Are you all right, Miss?" he asked, rubbing one of her ice-cold hands.

"I think so."

"Did you get scraped by any of their teeth? Even just a scratch?"

"No, I didn't. I got skinned by the concrete, but that's it."

The larger Hunter sighed hotly. "Ma'am, this is why you're supposed to go to St. Mungo's for your first transformation, especially if you're not sure the bite broke the skin. Didn't they tell you that?"

"They didn't tell me anything, because I never thought I was bitten! I just came up to look at the Werewolf Registry!"

Only a tiny patch of skin was visible around the Hunters' eyes, but that was enough to show they had gone pale. "Why did you come to the Support Services Office, then?"

"Because that's where the Information Desk screamed at me to go as soon as the word 'werewolf' came out of my mouth! I thought maybe you could tell me where it was, but you didn't even let me get a sentence out before you grabbed me and dragged me off like… like some sort of animal! Is that how you treat the werewolves who come here?"

The larger Hunter sputtered. "I'm, uh… I'm going to get Hembree."

He darted down the hall with surprising speed for his size. The smaller opened his mouth to protest, looked from his partner to Seph to Hermione, then blurted out. "I'll go get you an Invigoration Draught."

"Wait a minute!" Seph shouted as he also disappeared. "You cowards!" With a sigh, he conjured a robe and wrapped it around Hermione's shoulders. "Miss, I am so sorry about this. I can't apologize enough."

"You better believe you can't!"

Seph looked down at his shoes. "Why don't I take you up to my office where it's a little more comfortable?"

Hermione opened her mouth. She wanted to shout. She wanted to scream the whole Ministry down. But this man wasn't the one she wanted to scream at. She closed her lips again and muttered, "Fine."

Seph helped her up, allowed her a second to adjust the conjured robe closed around herself, and guided her to the lift. She wanted to jerk away from him and stomp down the hall, but her legs still wouldn't support her full weight, and she had no choice but to lean against him for support. Thankfully, the Ministry was now nearly empty, and no one asked questions as they went back to the Werewolf Support Services office.

He eased her into a chair in the office and then pointed his wand to the firewood stand beside the hearth. "Let me get the fire built up." A few logs floated into the smoldering coals, and flames flickered to life around them. "You're as cold as ice."

"Of course I am! It's freezing down there!"

"I know. They refuse to install a hearth in the Center." Seph sighed. "The Hunters say that transformed werewolves don't like the open flame, but they could put in a warming stone or something."

With a huff, Hermione pulled the robe more closely around herself.

"Would you like me to move you closer to the fire?"

"If you wouldn't mind."

Hermione expected him to slide her over magically, but to her surprise, he eased her chair over by hand. "How's that?"

"A little better."

With a nod, he went to his desk and picked up a quill. "I'm terribly sorry, but I didn't notice what you were wearing when you came in. If you'll describe them, I'll see that your clothes are found right away."

"I was wearing a green dress with ivy embroidered around the hems, and a wool jacket with yeti trim. And I had a little beaded bag they took, too." He wrote down the description. "They won't be labeled or anything. The Hunters said they were just going to throw them in a box."

"There's a cabinet of individual drawers that are used for werewolves' personal effects. I'm sure they put your clothes in there. If not, I'll tear the room apart until I find them, I promise. We won't send you home like that."

"Why not lockers?"

"Beg pardon?"

"Why not have lockers for the werewolves?" Hermione said. "That way, they'll know their things are safe, and there won't be any worry about getting things mixed up."

"That's a good idea." Seph seemed ready to say more, but a knock sounded at the door, and it opened.

Another Hunter stood there, this one a woman with her hood tucked into her belt, and she was holding a goblet of Invigoration Draught. "I understand we've had an incident."

"Oh, we've had an 'incident,' all right," Hermione said.

Seph took the goblet and handed it to Hermione. "Here, this should help the Placidus charm wear off." She took a sip of the golden potion and warmth spread through her, the strength returning to her limbs.

"What in the world did you do to make them trank you?" the Hunter asked.

"What did I do?! What would you do if two strange men started pulling off your clothes? How about we talk about what they did?"

"Um, I'll go find those clothes now," Seph said, slinking toward the door and vanishing into the hallway.

The Hunter sighed and pulled the desk chair closer to Hermione. Hermione pointedly moved her chair away. "Please let me start over. I'm Elmira Hembree, the head of the Werewolf Capture Unit. And you are?"

"Hermione Granger." Hermione didn't like throwing her fame around after the war, but sometimes it was worth it. The way Hembree went wide-eyed and pale, that was worth it.

"Miss Granger, the Ministry is very sorry for this unfortunate mistake."

"Oh, the Ministry is, is it?"

"Yes, but please try to understand where my employees were coming from. It is not common for normal wizards to come to this office, and it is not uncommon for werewolves to cut their arrival very close to their transformation. Therefore, when you showed up 10 minutes before moonrise, it was perfectly reasonable for them to assume you were a werewolf. Naturally, under those circumstances, they would want to get you into isolation as quickly as possible. Can you imagine what would happen if a werewolf transformed here in the Ministry, outside of the Isolation Center?"

"That's no reason for them to start throwing insults at me and—"

"Miss Granger, I'll admit that my employees are a little loose with their slang, but I'm sure they didn't intend to insult you."

"Oh really? It's just slang to call someone a mutt, or a plague rat, or a bitch?"

"Well, properly speaking, a female werewolf is—"

"Don't give me that! Do you think I'm stupid? Do you think they're stupid?" On second thought, maybe Hermione didn't want that answer. "If this is how you treat real werewolves, no wonder they don't want to spend any more time here than they have to. Do you know what it's like in there?"

"I have been inside the Isolation Center, and I can assure you it is well-designed for their safety."

"Then why are the cages so tight that a werewolf can injure themselves if they're in the wrong position when they transform?"

Hembree's voice took on a tone usually used to explain things to small children. "Miss Granger, if werewolves are unable to find human prey, they turn self-violent. Granted, there is a risk of discomfort or occasionally—very rarely, mind—of a dislocation if one of them is in an awkward position when they transform. But if the cell walls were not close enough, the werewolves would start biting themselves, and a werewolf can injure itself rather impressively over the course of a night."

"They only attack themselves if they're confined too closely." Hermione remembered Remus's fond tales of running through the Forbidden Forest with the Marauders, safely confined to its limits by James and Sirius. "If they have room to run, they'll just keep running if they don't find prey."

Hembree gave an exaggerated sigh. "That's very nice in theory, but we simply do not have room for 40 or 50 werewolves to run without feeling confined."

"And the Tritonis Institute's library doesn't have room to house three million books, but it does just that. We're wizards, Ms. Hembree. We can make room."

Hembree sat back and stared at Hermione, and a sickly sweet smile of indulgence crossed her lips. "Miss Granger, I'm terribly sorry, but I do not have the authority to change the Werewolf Isolation Center. Likewise, I cannot change what has happened tonight. Believe me, I wish I could." Because I just know you are going to be a royal pain in my arse, Hermione could hear in her tone. "What do you want me to do to make up for this unfortunate occurrence?"

Hermione clenched her jaw, squeezing her fists into tight balls. I want the system changed. I want… "I want werewolves to be treated with respect when they come here."

"I will discipline the two employees involved for their behavior, and I will remind the entire Werewolf Capture Unit of how their actions reflect on the institution. Is there anything else?"

I want them to have somewhere safe and pleasant to come during the full moon. I want… "I want them to have a safe place to keep their belongings."

"Their things are already kept safe while they are transformed."

"Then where are my clothes?!" Hermione shouted.

At that moment, the door swung open, and Seph stood there looking shocked at her shout. In his arms were her dress and jacket, folded neatly, with her bag laid on top.

"Is there anything else you would like, Miss Granger?" Hembree asked.

Hermione's fists squeezed even tighter. I want… I want to punch that smug smile right off your face. I want you to know what it feels like for someone like them, for someone like Remus, for just one day. She wanted to explode; that was what she wanted. She stormed toward the door, grabbed her things out of Seph's arms, and stomped toward the nearest washroom to change.

Halfway down the hall, it struck her. She whipped around and shouted, "I want them to be treated like human beings!"