If I ran away, I'd never have the strength
To go very far
How would they hear the beating of my heart
Will it grow cold
The secret that I hide, will I grow old
How will they hear
When will they learn
How will they know

18th February, 1888 — Head of Department's Office
Kieran Abernathy

From the moment she had been given the long-coveted top spot in the Department it had been lurking in the back of Morwenna's mind that there was a young man at the Daily Prophet she had determined she would speak to at the earliest opportunity. She didn't know for sure that he was like her of course, but their conversation, the hints woven through their entire interaction had practically raised the hackles on the back of her neck: as though the wolf inside her recognised the one inside him.

Either he was a werewolf or Mr Kieran Abernathy had inexplicable quickened her heart for some other reason she didn't like to contemplate. In both instances life did not look good for the young man.

Awkwardly rapping her fingers against the oak desk she had inherited at long last she waited, each sound that came from the antechamber outside her office making her eyes twitch to the door as she waited for it to open and for him to be shown in. When another door closed and footsteps walked away she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to settle her nerves. This was absurd. She was a grown woman being interviewed by a political reporter, that was all. She might have imagined the rest. Might be about to make a colossal fool of herself as she carefully hinted at the truth with a script she had rehearsed for days to make sure it was as opaque to someone ignorant as it was transparent to somebody that knew.

On the other hand, if she was upfront, who on earth would believe him? He was a journalist and she a respected public servant. Unless the Ministry decided to follow her home and monitor her during the full moon how would they know? Could they do that? Would they do that? The head of the werewolf capture unit might work under her but he was no fool and a lead was a lead and-

Finally a knock came at her door and she beckoned the visitor inside in a voice steadier than she had anticipated.

"Mr Abernathy, thank you so much for coming to see me."

  

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MJ knows my soul rings to the rune of this iconic hat

There was about an 85% chance that this was going to result in Kieran being arrested, a conclusion he had more or less come to accept while he was waiting outside of Mrs. Skeeter's office. He'd had a good run. Eileen would break into the Ministry holding cells to murder him when she found out that he couldn't cover his rent, but, well - he'd had a good run.

Kieran gripped his notebook to his chest as he stepped into the office. "Thank you inviting me, Mrs. Skeeter," he said. His mouth felt dry. Why did his mouth feel dry? When she had him arrested because he inevitably revealed himself on a hunch, would they bring him a cup of water, or was he going to sit in the cells wondering why his mouth felt so dry?

"I'm happy for the opportunity to interview you."

---

  

Morwenna frowned as she took him in. He didn't look any worse than he had last time - certainly no more tired and drawn than she herself probably looked - but there was a skittishness about him that she had not anticipated. They had understood each other last time had they not? True, nothing had been said for definite but why on earth would he think she wanted him especially otherwise?

“You needn't look so nervous, you know?" She said with a twist of her lips and an ironic tilt of her head. “I don't bite."

He simply had to get it from that didn't he? She could hardly just come out and say something but if they could at least be on the same page it would make the viewpoint she hoped to get across considerably more relevant.

“Well, at least no more than you do I daresay.”

  

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MJ knows my soul rings to the rune of this iconic hat

The office door clicked shut behind him, and with no ceremony at all, Mrs. Skeeter outed him. The color drained from Kieran's face.

"I suppose we're the same, then," he said, "Or I doubt you'd say as much." He sat down across from her and touched his hand to his wrist, where the shackles rested during the full moon. If she was going to have him arrested, it was too late to back out now - he would not have been able to lie to her if he tried, after that.

---

  

Despite her bravado in the moment Morwenna found her hand shook as she reached across the desk with her palm up, asking silently for his hand, pulling up the sleeve of her robes with her free hand, displaying the quite obvious matching scars.

“I do believe we are,” she replied in a hush, as though saying it any quieter would change how quickly she would be sent to Azkaban if she was mistaken. But she was sure. So sure that Mr Abernathy shared her condition. It would just take one of them to be brave and she supposed it would have to be her. “How long has it been since you were bitten?”

  

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MJ knows my soul rings to the rune of this iconic hat

Oh, thank Merlin. Kieran grinned, a genuine grin, because she was the same. He was sitting across from a real, genuine werewolf and she was - head of the department of regulation and control of magical creatures. He was sat across from a walking contradiction, but she had revealed herself to him for sure, which at least meant that she was unlikely to sell him out.

"Autumn of 1884," Kieran said, "I take - precautions, though. Don't worry."

He was sure as shit not going to tell her about the Urquart girl, regardless.

"When were you bitten?"

---

  

The smile he gave her released the coil of tension that had been tightening inside her and she couldn’t help but smile back. It was the strangest sort of connection but she felt the same affinity with this young man as she had with Mr Williams during their brief acquaintance. Sometimes she thought of him still, worried whether he was doing well, but she had not seen him in many months.

Perhaps…? But no, if Mr Abernathy said he took precautions then there was no way he could be the wolf that bit her. Of course, he might just as well be lying – he likely had as much practice as she did.

“May last year, not long before the Minister’s daughter. I did wonder if it was the same wolf but I’ve never been able to prove it.”

  

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MJ knows my soul rings to the rune of this iconic hat

So just a few months before the girl. If Kieran hadn't woken up chained to the tree that day, he would believe that it could be the same wolf, too.

He grimaced sympathetically at her. "I think the first few months are the hardest," he said, "Not that it's ever easy. But. You know."

---

  

“Oh thank God for that,” she replied emphatically, thrilled beyond words that she had some confirmation that the marginal improvement in her own health was noticed was not her imagination. Perhaps she could look like herself again? Behave, if not entirely not normally, then not unlike other women who had a secret from their families.

“I was worried I’d never adjust,” she looked him over and wondered if his shabby appearance was not, as she had assumed, due to being a werewolf. “Is somebody looking after you?”

  

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MJ knows my soul rings to the rune of this iconic hat

Holy shit, the department head was mom-ing him. Kieran couldn't help but grin at her, all teeth.

"On full moons or in general?" Kieran asked, tugging at the ends of his coat sleeves. "Bit of both. It's not easy to do either where I'm from."

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   Morwenna Skeeter

Wherever he was from Morwenna quickly judged that it wasn't a place that was in possession of a flat iron but he looked healthy enough, certainly healthier than the last young werewolf she had met, and that could only be a good thing. She grinned back, eyes flicking to his sleeves, hoping he didn’t have any new injuries under there that were worse than what they got monthly.

“Well she must be understanding, I haven’t managed to tell a soul,” she said, eyes bright as she took him in and marvelled that he had been brave in ways she couldn’t comprehend. “Apart from you. And another one of us.”

  

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MJ knows my soul rings to the rune of this iconic hat

"You know another one of us?' Kieran asked, eyebrows quirking upwards. He'd never met one, unless one counted Miss Urquart, or the werewolf who'd turned him.

"My flatmate knows," Kieran said, "And - I hang around an activist crowd, and one of them knows."

Jude would rather like Mrs. Skeeter, Kieran thought.

---

  

Well. She couldn’t say she was overly surprised that he prescribed to that particular lifestyle given his shabby clothing, spellotaped glasses and her suspicion that he hadn’t seen a decent meal for longer than she cared to think about. She had a sudden and powerful urge to feed him but inviting him to her home would likely come out odder than intended.

Of course it wouldn’t hurt to let him know where to find her if the need arose.

“I’m amazed you manage in a flat. I worry about my cellar not being secure enough most of the time,” she said wryly. “Then again I don’t know where W lives – he’s the other one, another young man that looks like he needs feeding,” she said pointedly, unable to resist. “But I know he wasn’t responsible for Miss Urquart either so he does take precautions.”

  

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MJ knows my soul rings to the rune of this iconic hat

"Oh, my flat would fall apart," Kieran said with a laugh. He was fully confident of that - he would bust through the front door, probably take down the whole building. "I use a friend's attic." Secured with silencing spells and binding charms, Kieran knew that he flung himself against the walls every full moon night in search of an exit - and if he ever found the way out as a werewolf, tumbled through the attic's trapdoor and past the staircase, he would kill a person he was quietly, fervently in love with. It was terrifying. But the forest hadn't been secure yet.

---

  

An attic did not seem entirely safe to Morwenna. She had considered her own at the time and had been convinced her new claws could get through the floorboards with more ease than they could the ceiling of her cellar but she supposed others had to make do. For all that this ranked quite highly on the long list of shit hands life had dealt her Morwenna was still aware that she was relatively fortunate and in possession of more than enough means to keep her life on track.

“If you ever need somewhere more secure you need only ask,” she replied with a warm smile. It was risky – he might still be a liar, though every instinct she possessed told her he wasn’t – but she couldn’t help herself. “Unless,” she furrowed her brow. “Would they – we, I mean – turn on one another?”

  

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MJ knows my soul rings to the rune of this iconic hat

Kieran tilted his head, not understanding her meaning for a few seconds. "Oh," he said. How would It react to other werewolves? It did not react particularly well to everyone else.

"I think that's a - possibility," Kieran said, "I've never run into someone else - or, that is to say, I do not recall ever running into someone else." He didn't know what he got up to every full moon -- there was no way to say.

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