"Incoming Howlers!"

As the applause faded, Hermione returned to her desk. When were those going to stop coming? She skimmed through the rest of her mail. Owen Milburn had written that he really did mean 'any time day or night' and she could come to W.A.G. whenever she liked. Meanwhile, Harry had gathered Greyback's case file for her. She could stop at the Ministry for that, then head to Milburn's. She picked up her notebook, looked over the list from the registry, and sighed.

"That was a heavy sigh," Meg said from the doorway, her mug in her hand.

"How do I write people to ask for an interview out of the blue? I think it would be creepy to get something like that. 'Hi, I'm a complete stranger who got your name off an uncomfortably public record of your illness.' It's not like asking a house-elf owner; they like to brag."

"You might have better luck posting a notice somewhere like Werewolf Support Services. Let people come to you instead, especially at the beginning. You can send letters later when your project is more focused and you know exactly what to ask."

"That's a good idea." Could she have a notice ready before going to Harry? Knowing herself, probably not. How would she even explain the project on one flyer?

"Expect to interview a lot of people?" Meg asked.

"As many as will let me," Hermione said.

Meg turned and summoned something from her office. "You'll want one of these, then," she said, holding out a bright orange composition book.

Hermione grinned as she took it. "Is this a Mental Notebook?"

"Yup. Nothing better for interviews. You're not trying to keep up with a quill and making the interviewee nervous. Just leave it in your bag and make Mental Notes as you go."

"What's the ethics of that?"

Meg caught herself before rolling her eyes too far. "I have no idea. Everyone uses them. But if you don't want it…" She playfully reached for it.

Hermione hugged it to her chest and turned away. "No, I do."

"Just remember that your interview notes will have to be surrendered to the archive so they can be a source for someone else later. So don't go putting your grocery list in there like Prof. Walker does."

Note: Interview notes are surrendered to the archive after a project, Hermione thought. She open the notebook, and written on the first page was "* Interview notes are surrendered to the archive after a project." "Oh, this is just perfect. I'm going to try it out today."

Hermione pressed the doorbell beside the Milburn family's side door. To her horror, an artificial howl rang out. "Just a minute!" a cheerful voice called, and the door swung open by itself. Hermione glanced around, but seeing no one, hesitantly stepped inside.

"It's all right; come in. I was just getting the printing press running." A muscular man in his late 30s or early 40s trotted up a nearby staircase.

Hermione shifted the thick binder holding Fenrir Greyback's case file to her left hand and extended her right. "Hi, I'm Hermione Granger,"

"Oh, right, the one who wrote me about a research project. Just call me Owen." He put his hand out, then yanked it back when he realized it was covered with dark purple ink. "Whoops, sorry about that. All these years, you'd think I'd know how to fill the thing without wearing half the ink. Head on down while I get cleaned up." He pointed down the stairs he had just climbed.

Hermione went down into a basement. There were two armchairs with a low table between them, and a desk with a teakettle and a caddy of teas on it. On one wall was a wooden rack labeled "Werewolf Advocacy Group" and filled with pamphlets, with a handful of missing child posters underneath it. Greyback's case file was becoming uncomfortably heavy, so Hermione set it on the table and went to the rack. Every slot was filled with titles like 'Furry Kids: Treating Childhood Lycanthropy, What Helps and What Harms', 'Werewolves in Love: Handling Lycanthropy in a Romantic Relationship', and 'Hairy Problems: Potential Complications of Lycanthropy'. She picked up a pamphlet titled "Lupine Laws: What Every Werewolf Should Know About Her Legal Rights in Great Britain."

"There we go, much better," Owen said, walking in. "Please take anything that looks interesting. The more information that gets out there, the better, I say."

Hermione picked out a few more as he sat down. "Did you write all of these?"

"Only a few. Mostly the Britain-specific ones, like the list of approved Transformation Locations and the one on legal rights. Most of them come from the International W.A.G. headquarters in Transylvania, and I just translate and update them for Britain."

Hermione pulled out one last pamphlet and turned around. Owen was flipping through Fenrir's case file. "Oh, Mr. Milburn! I'm not sure I can let you look at that."

Owen flashed a boyish grin. "Don't worry, I've seen the good bits." He closed the binder and tapped it twice with his fingertips. "I worked on this case for five years before I was bitten."

"Really? You were an Auror? Or a Hunter?"

"Auror," he said with a nod. "Up until the bite; afterwards I was a 'security risk'. Actually, this case is why I was bitten."

"Did Greyback bite you?" Hermione asked, lowering herself into the other armchair.

"No, it was one of his kids. It was mostly my fault, though. I thought I could catch Greyback using one of the girls he'd kidnapped as bait. I waited too long to take her to isolation on the day of a full moon, and the sun set before we made it."

"I'm sorry."

Owen shrugged. "It was rough at first, but things have worked out all right for me. Since I couldn't work anymore, I got to stay home and raise my kids, actually watch them grow. Knowing they were in good hands made my wife enjoy her work more, and that made us both happier. Now that the kids are at Hogwarts, most of my time goes to W.A.G. But I love it. It makes me feel I'm doing something important."

"How big is W.A.G.?" Hermione asked

"W.A.G. itself is an international organization. It started in Transylvania and spread from there. For the British branch, though, it depends how you look at it. Officially, we only have a handful of paying members, but I'm reprinting the pamphlets every few months. I think that's the important part, getting people the information they need."

"What else does W.A.G. do?"

"Like the name says, we're an advocacy group. We campaign for the best interests of werewolves, especially when a new law is being considered. But, well…" He gave an apologetic half shrug. "It's a little hard when the Daily Prophet won't give us the time of day. Most of the magazines won't, either. The only ones that will even run my ads are Transfiguration Today and Magical Menagerie." Owen tapped the binder of Fenrir's case file again. "If you don't mind me asking, what exactly about werewolves are you studying that involves Greyback?"

"Right now, I'm trying to understand a little of everything. How werewolves live, how you're treated by society, how you relate to society in the face of that. And, well, crime is part of that, so…"

Owen sighed. "You've got the right case with Greyback, then. I don't think there was a crime he didn't commit. Murder, theft, extortion, kidnapping, malicious biting. Actually, we found out that he's responsible for the malicious biting law. His bites during You-Know-Who's first reign were why it was written. And of course, his kidnappings… I'd say they were the stuff of legend if it didn't make it sound so bloody positive." He gestured to the missing person posters underneath the pamphlet rack.

"How many children did he kidnap?"

"No one knows for sure except for him, and he's not talking anymore. Any time a werewolf kid disappeared, people assumed it was him, but we don't know that for certain. Some were probably runaways. And on the other side, at least one kid he took wasn't a werewolf yet."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Really?"

Owen nodded. "Have you heard of Clio Dragoumi?"

"The Greek violinist, with the Dragoumi Sisters?"

"Yes. Her family was touring Britain when she was 11, and one night she vanished out of her dressing room. Five years later she came forward."

"I've read a bit about her, because I want to go to a Dragoumi Sisters concert while they're in the country. But nothing like that. I remember the paper said she wasn't available for an interview. Something about her family being protective of her because of a medical condition. I suppose that's her lycanthropy?"

"Maybe, or it might be her memory problems. I'm not surprised that her family is protective, though, after losing her the first time. She refused to come back to Britain as long as Greyback was alive, even when he was in Azkaban. I'm surprised she's back now, really."

Hermione sighed. "There's no chance I could talk to her for this project, is there?"

Owen stroked his chin. His fingers were still dyed purple. "Security is really tight around the Dragoumis, especially Clio, but I could write a letter of introduction for you. I helped her find her family, so we're on good terms. I can't promise it'll do any good, though."

"I'd really appreciate it if you tried. What about the children who were already werewolves when Greyback took them? Do you know any of them?"

"Only a few. During the war, obviously Greyback went off his nut. He scared a pack of his kids so badly that they came here until they could cast a protective charm on their home. While they were here, they helped return some of the children he'd stolen. I kept the posters from that."

He pulled a manila folder out of a desk drawer and opened it. "Yes, here we go. Vincent Trimble. No one who meets him ever forgets Vinnie. He's at Hogwarts right now."

"Oh, he was allowed?" Hermione asked.

Owen nodded. "His parents made some sort of special arrangement. Your best bet will be to send them an owl." He handed the old missing child flyer to her so she could get their names. He stared at the next for a few seconds, then shuffled it to the back. "That kid is still protected by a charm; I can't read that. Oh, I remember this next girl, though. It was so sad. Her mother didn't want her back. She just didn't want her with Greyback. She signed custody over to another werewolf."

He held the flyer out to Hermione, and her free hand floated to her mouth as she took it. She recognized the name: "Samantha Delven."