Hermione needed longer than expected to write up a flyer requesting interviews, but finally she had it like she wanted it. She hoped the Werewolf Support Services Office would be open this time. As she approached the end of the Beasts Division hallway, she heard Seph's voice say, "I thought that position was filled."

"Nah, fell through at the last minute," a young man's voice said. "Nothing pisses me off like having to steal an artifact back from an interviewee."

"Not Mr. Chaney, I hope?"

"Nah, Chaney was cool; he just didn't have the skills. This was some human guy."

"Chris, you're a human guy."

"Seph, I like you, but if you keep talking shit, you're gonna get hexed.—You coming in, or ya just gonna stand there and eavesdrop?"

Hermione poked her head into the room. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"Just my friend being an ass," Seph said before Chris could say anything. "Come in, Miss Granger."

"Granger?" Chris asked. "Any relation to Hermione Granger?"

Oh no. There was a 50/50 chance whether anything good would follow this. "I'm Hermione Granger."

"Holy shit, for real?! I am a big fan of your work. That Gringotts job was brilliant. I especially liked how you made your escape on their own dragon. Totally stylish. Oh, and you know, saving the world was pretty cool, too." He held out his hand to shake. "Christavious Corbin. Call me Chris."

"Oh!" Hermione didn't realize she had no idea what Chris looked like until she took his hand and suddenly did. He was average height and slim, with light brown hair sprinkled with black and blond strands, and eyes that were closer to orange than brown. He was dressed in jeans, dragon hide boots, and a leather jacket over a T-shirt for a band named Seven-League Bootstrap, and a gold caduceus pendant hung from a heavy chain around his neck.

"I get that a lot," Chris said.

"Chris is a Magical Item Recovery Agent for the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes," Seph said. "If something magical ends up in Muggle hands, M.I.R.A.s get it back. He was just posting a want ad for the department."

"Is there a lot of work for that?" Hermione asked

"Enough to keep a team busy," Chris said. "You're way overqualified after that Gringotts heist, so if you're interested, the job's yours. I won't even make you interview."

"I'm happy with my current position, but thank you. I just wanted to post a notice down here."

"Go right ahead, anywhere on the board," Seph said.

Chris read it over her shoulder as she put it up with a Sticking Charm, twisting his mouth. "How much you paying?"

Researchers weren't allowed to use Institute funds to pay directly for interviews. She'd be paying Roma out of her own pocket, and she couldn't afford to do that for everyone. "The Institute will cover a meal."

"Yeah, you won't get anyone. Maybe a couple lapdogs."

"Chris, please don't use that language in here," Seph said. Chris rolled his eyes so far back that Hermione thought they might go around 360 degrees.

"Why wouldn't I?" she asked.

"You got any idea what's on the other side of that wall?" Chris asked, pointing.

Hermione took a second to orient herself. "The Werewolf Capture Unit?"

"Right, fucking Werewolf Hunters! And they read shit like that. No one's going to help you knowing it'll end up with them. Especially not for free."

Hermione bit her lip. She wanted to help people understand werewolves; it hadn't occurred to her that could be used against them.

"Oh fuck. Speak of the devil," Chris muttered as a Hunter in uniform leaned into the doorway.

"Did I hear Corbin in here?" he asked.

"Nope," Chris said before Seph could sneak a word in.

The Hunter squinted at him. "Corbin, is that you?"

"Nah, man, you just missed him. He walked off like three seconds ago. You can probably catch him if you hurry."

The Hunter looked down the hall with furrowed brow, then pulled on the fingers of his dragon hide glove to loosen them. "So help me, Corbin, if this is you," he said, pulling the glove off. He stepped into the room and reached for Chris's hand.

Chris jumped back. "Keep your fucking hands off me, Marolt!"

"It is you."

Chris clapped. "Congratulations. You want a biscuit?"

"I don't have time for your nonsense. I need you to pick a lock."

"And I need a million Galleons tax-free, so we're both going to be disappointed."

"I'm not playing around with you, Corbin. This is serious."

"Don't care. Ask the B-list."

"Jacobson and Dawkins couldn't get it, and Robins is playing dumb."

"Oh, I don't think he's playing."

Marolt drummed his fingers on the silver dagger strapped to his thigh. "You're the most qualified, so get your arse in there and do it."

"Not. Going. To. Happen," Chris said slowly and loudly.

"I can go to your department head, you know."

Chris slapped his hands together. "You know what? Let's go. This'll be fun. Weirdest thing, Marolt. The Ministry didn't hire a Latromancer; they hired a Magical Item Recovery Agent. I don't have to do anything for you unless you leave that damn dagger somewhere stupid." He turned to Hermione. "Which I have had to fix for him, by the way."

"Well, Mr. Latromancer, maybe we should talk about your activities outside of work," Marolt said.

"OK, let's talk. Whadaya got?" When Marolt didn't answer, Chris leaned against Seph's desk and beckoned with his hand. "Come on, you promised something good. Let's hear it."

"I'm watching you, Corbin."

"Don't hurt yourself." Chris put up his hands. "I'm out."

For a second, Hermione wasn't sure Chris was still in the room. A hard blink cleared that, but she couldn't get a clear mental image of him, even when she looked straight at him. Marolt moved to block him as he stepped toward the door, but it didn't stop him. One moment Chris was in front of Marolt, and a split second later he was behind him and walking down the hall. He didn't apparate. It was more like he split in half, one in front of Marolt and one behind, and then the trailing one vanished while the leading solidified.

Marolt turned and darted after him, then hunched his shoulders and brought his fists up with an annoyed growl. "Which of those is Corbin?" he asked, gesturing down the hallway. Several people were heading to other offices, but Hermione couldn't tell which, if any, was Chris.

"I have no idea," Seph said.

Marolt cursed and kicked at the tile floor. "That boy is nothing but trouble."

"That young man is a valued Ministry employee," Seph said, "and you don't have to antagonize him. You especially don't have to antagonize him here, in this office, wearing your full gear."

"I'm going to his department head," Marolt said, leaving.

"And she's going to rip you a new orifice," Seph muttered. He pushed his hands through his sandy hair and looked at Hermione. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to assure my clients that they can have relatively normal lives when I have Werewolf Hunters walking past my door in full dragon hide under a waning quarter moon?"

"That must be tough," Hermione said.

"This really is a terrible location for this office. I'm sorry you had to see that. Is there anything else you need?"

"While I'm here, I was wondering. Werewolves aren't required to be in the Isolation Center for the full moon, right?"

"No, but I recommend my clients transform in a Ministry Approved location. Under the current Negligent Biting law, that protects them from liability."

"Is there a list of those locations I could see?"

"Yes, there is a list, but no, you couldn't see it. That information isn't open to the public."

"What if I were a werewolf? Could I see it then?"

Seph sighed. "I think I know where you're going with this. No, you could not."

"So a werewolf can't see the list of places where they're allowed to transform?"

"No, and I agree, it's abysmally stupid. The Ministry's afraid that if the list were publicly accessible, people who live nearby would panic. So we're not allowed to give it out, even to the people who need it."

"So how is a werewolf supposed to find out about those other locations?"

"Officially, I suspect they're not. But." He went to a wooden pamphlet rack beside the bulletin board. Like the one in Owen Milburn's basement, the top was labeled "Werewolf Advocacy Group," although some slots were empty here. Seph pulled out a pamphlet and handed it to Hermione. Printed on it was "Unofficial List of Ministry Approved Transformation Locations" and a list of addresses. "If you were a werewolf, I would suggest you take one of these. Of course, I'd have to warn you it's an unofficial list and may not be accurate."

"So how would I know I was going somewhere safe?"

"Ask me about any location, and I'm allowed to say if it's still approved or not. So we could go down the list, and I could confirm it."

"But you can't just give me a copy of the official list?"

Seph shook his head. "Not if I want to keep my job."

"What's the difference?"

"The difference is that these are printed by an independent group. Well, really an independent guy; I don't know how many members he has. But he's not the Ministry, and he's not claiming it's official, so it's all right. It's a stupid little loophole we have to jump through."

"Doesn't that drive you nuts?"

"Almost everything about this job drives me nuts. I mean, look at this." He gestured to the pamphlet rack. "This is the information this office should provide, and we don't do any of it. Worse, every few months I fight with my supervisor about whether this rack should be here. What else should be in this office, I ask you?"

"What sorts of things do you provide, then?"

"To be painfully honest, not much. Supposedly we keep a list of job openings, but those fill up quickly, and as often as not, the business backs out at the last minute. There's a list of 'assistance programs', but half of them are defunct, and the other half… Well, some are too stingy to be worth the effort, some have impossible requirements, and the rest treat werewolves like criminally minded animals that have to be kept on short leashes."

"Does this office do anything useful?"

Seph rubbed the back of his neck. "A lot of it's unofficial, but I like to think so. Some people who come here just need someone to talk to. Someone who isn't dressed head to toe in dragon hide and ready to fill them with silver shards. And this is the first place a new werewolf thinks to come for help. Even if I can't do anything, at least I can direct them to W.A.G. rather than leaving them with no idea at all. I think I do the most good around the full moon, though. W.C.U. Hunters are scary even to me, so I can only imagine how a werewolf must feel. I think it's a lot more comfortable for a werewolf who gets here early enough to deal with me than them. It's especially important for the kids. I can't imagine how frightening the Isolation Center must be for a little child, but when they come to this office first, I can at least conjure a toy or something for them. It gives them something to hold in the Center while they wait, and something to chew on once they've transformed. The Boxes aren't small enough to keep a child werewolf from turning around, and I hate to see how badly they can hurt themselves. It doesn't hurt anything to destroy or even eat a conjured toy, because it vanishes once it's no longer needed. But the Werewolf Capture Unit never thinks of that. I've had to argue with them over it."

"Don't you get frustrated, fighting with the bureaucracy every day to do what's supposed to be your job?" Hermione asked.

"All the time. Some days I want to pull my hair out and put in my resignation notice."

"So why don't you?"

Seph grinned at her, an adorable, boyish grin that scrunched his brown eyes as his sandy hair fell across them. "Because I want werewolves to be treated like human beings."