Realization crashed into her like a rage-laden dragon, ripping and burning away at the image of Morwenna Skeeter that Elinor had so long held. The things that had been niggling at her mind for eons, cast aside as irrelevant, were now wagging their fingers at her and saying I told you so in the harsh light of day.

Morwenna Skeeter, her mentor, was a werewolf.

Nora took an involuntary step back.

"We can't apparate in and out of the ministry offices," she reminded the woman, voice shaky. "We-we would need to get to a networked fireplace." The witch did all she could to remain normal, but tone, face, and wide-eyed stare all betrayed her.