The beginning of a winding road in body and mind.

London's streets were bustling with cars and people when he exited the building he had found a year or so back. The building was old and run down and had remained the same since the last time he apparated there when he was touring around the city and making notes as he watched the life styles of criminals.

He jumped on the first bus he found going further into the city. It felt like time was passing faster than he could comprehend. Just a few days ago he had been in the brooms enjoying his meal with Ginny Weasley. Now he was headed for Whitehall, the Ministry of Magic, to apply for a position he had been thinking over for a very long time. Yet, it made since to him as he had been hunting criminals down for as long as he had been living out on his own. It was the way of life he understood and loved.

As the bus slowed to a stop he stood and walked off finding himself two blocks away from the visitors entrance to the Ministry. He found the few minutes of walking time refreshing as he continued to go over his thoughts.

He saw the red phone booth seemingly sticking out of the street and remembered the last time he had visited the Ministry during the summer after his second year at Hogwarts. A chill ran up his arms and back, the chill wasn't bad though. He had decided that for once he wanted to have a purpose in this wizarding world. He was going to try to make a real difference. He stepped inside and dialed the number for visitors. He began to descend. He focused his mind on his purpose and cleared his mind of all other thoughts.

Upon entrance he saw many wizards he recognized but really knew nothing about. He walked to the elevators and saw that the button for level two had already been pressed. The light switched from the first to second floor quickly. He stepped off the elevator and into the busy room filled with Aurors from all over the world. He felt claustrophobic seeing the cubicles littered around the room and hoping they were mainly there for show. The real job was out in the world not in this tiny space in an office. He realized that he had made it this far but had no clue who to speak to at this point. He grabbed the attention of the first person he could find.

"Excuse me. I was wondering if you could help me." He said as he lightly grabbed the arm of the witch that had walked by him without paying much attention. She had fiery red hair and had a few noticeable scars on her face though he did not look at them directly. He found it hard to look anywhere else besides her eyes. It shocked him but he had seen eyes like hers before. They reminded him of the look in the wizards eyes that tried to recruit him a few months ago.

Jack found that sometimes her duties to Vito extended outside the office. She had her duties to the Ministry that worked against Vito, but she also had her duties to Vito against the Ministry. She could not help it. Until her crusade to make up all of his wrongs were done, she had to keep him out of trouble. It was for the families, not for him, and definitely not for her. Once she had done her job, she would wash her hands of him. She had no other choice.

Today, a rather disturbing report had come across her death with a summation of a few deaths that had escaped her notice. She did not want to hide the deaths, or let them become forgotten, but she needed time and this particular Auror had had it up to his neck with all of the reports on Vito that seemingly got no results. And Jack had gotten the cue that this was her mess to deal with. She had to clean up on her own.

Jack was at the Minsitry a lot, and she was a familiar face in her department, but not so much in the Auror Department. A few people thought she should be an Auror, with her fearless attitude and tough demeanor, but she had never been convinced. The line between good and bad guy was too unclear for her to take the job in good conscience.

She made her solitary way down there, looking out of place. She did not wear robes; she did not dress like a business woman. She wore her jeans, her sneakers, a dark shirt. She wore a long black coat that reached her knees. Her hair had grown out from the year buzz, since she had no time to cut it in Azkaban. She attracted stares, she knew, because she had been wrongfully imprisoned, and everyone knew it, but no one was brave enough to say it.

It did not take long for the Auror to get over the fact that she had just been in prison to begin challenging her, rasing his voice and attempting to physically intimidate her. However, Jack had learned from the best, and she was unfazed. She stated her case over and over, and finally had to take her stand. "Look, Coleman, I get that your pissed. But you are going to have to go out on a limb, and trust the experts. Save your documents. Get it when we're done with him."

As she left, the Auror exploded, calling after her "You'll regret this, Dyllan, I swear to Merlin you will."

The eighteen year old closed her eyes. "Another vendetta. I could write a book," she muttered to herself. That was when she felt someone grab her. Her eyes flew open, her hand twitched and she tensed, readying herself for the escape she surely needed to make. She relaxed a little as she realized it was someone asking for help. She slipped from the man's grasp and absentmindedly brushed her hair out of her eyes. "Depends on what you need, really."

He looked around at all the other wizards rushing around the department who were stealing glances as the two talked. "Well I was looking for the head of the department to speak with them about a job but....." he looked as a wizard passed by staring at the woman he had stopped for help."What's with all of these people? They keep staring at you."

He couldn't believe how much attention she was getting. They were just standing and talking. It made him more uncomfortable with every passing moment. He enjoyed to be alone and unnoticed. He noticed he had grown increasingly more wolf like over the past two years. These days it seemed he had lost most of the common humanistic sides of himself almost completely.

"Anyways, I take it you are an Auror? Can you help me?" he said wanting to get away from the aurors piercing eyes. He was thankful he had thought to flush his mind and think of his Occlumency before entering the Ministry. He could only imagine whose nosey mind would try to wander into his.

He was speaking in a distracted manner and Jack found that her patience was already worn. She had only had time in Azkaban and since she had returned, part of keeping herself sane included filling every single second to its fullest extent and pushing the boundary of time by seeing how busy she could keep herself. A therapist might have called it a coping technique. She called her own damn business.

No, this man was obviously distracted and it was beginning to waste her time. She felt her fingers begin snapping impatiently and she reached up, again pushing her mess of a mane out of her face and she was opening her mouth to tell him to either spit it out or get away from her when he interupted himself. She was taken aback.

I'm sorry, you must be new.

She shrugged. "It happens when you question your Minister publically, I guess." She raised her hands, revealing crissing of scars. A few weeks ago, they looked like meat. They were still a little misshappen but they were healing. She felt others stop around them. "I suppose it's these too," she said, raising her voice. "People here are really SUBTLE." She nearly shouted the last word as a man literally craned his neck to look at her.

She rolled her eyes and dropped her hands with a sigh. "These people don't get out of the office much, they need something to entertain them." She rolled her eyes and tuned back in to what he was asking. She shook her head. "No, I'm not an Auror, just one of their many pains. I work with the creatures. I think your Head is Jen Dent but fat chance finding her. She's never here."

"Yeah freedom of speech isn't something the wizarding world is known for." he said with a smirk. His face remained the same when she lifted her hands to show him the scars all over the palms of her hands. Where it seemed muscle had been removed with a razor bit by bit and the skin was now sunken in. Her palms looked somewhat gnarled. He thought about what had caused the mutilation of her hands.

He commented on her hands after she finished speaking "Your hands remind me of the time when my friend was running and she didn't see a patch of smaller rocks on a mountain side so she ran through them full speed. She couldn't walk for a few days even after I healed her paws." the story brought a smile to his face as a memory flashed quickly in his mind of Leah refusing to move for the next few days. "How did your hands get that way?"

As he spoke he examined her behavior for the first time while blocking out his surroundings. She hadn't spoke with a hurried tone though her body language hinted that she wasn't one for small talk. He wasn't either and realized he was acting weird because of where he was at. He was nervous and it was showing.

Jack rolled her eyes. "You've got that right." She had learned the magical world and free speech did not go well. They were a lot more traditional than they thought they were and they were so formal and uptight. Jack was different and had little filter. The things that no one needed to know, they would never now. But she would not bat an eye at the thought of expressing her displeasure with the government or standing against someonne or something she thought to be wrong.

The protocol of the Ministry did not like that.

At his words, she thought of how close the story was to what had happened. Her injuries were mostly caused by the small pebbles in her cell in the prison. Without the pain of the pebles cutting into her soft flesh, she might have been consumed by something more. The gashes in her mind and soul would be a lot uglier than her hands for sure.

But she did not talk about that. She did not talk about herself. "They got that way because I wanted to stay alive. You know. Anyway what did you want to know?"

He looked around again and caught the glances of three other aurors right behind the woman he was talking to. His eyes were fierce and narrow staring daggers into them. They quickly diverted their gaze. He hated the judgmental ways of the wizarding world. He was tired of every faction of the war finding themselves superior to the others. They were all just as annoying and snobby as the other. He began thinking of the exit and how nice it would be to leave and never look back.

He listened to the woman dodge the questions about her hands as he began to look around again at his surroundings though without the lost look in his eyes. Something had taken hold of him during the end of their conversation and he realized where he was. He had stood here and been chatty for no reason what so ever though he finally realized what was going on. He was making a mistake and his body was fighting him every step of the way.

"Well I'm pretty sure you've answered what question I had. I was looking to speak to someone about becoming an Auror though I'm not interested in becoming some pawn for someone else's war. Maybe you could point me in the right direction. I'm not going to talk your ear off while we stand here and waist more time. But If your willing, could you meet me in the Leaky Cauldron later tonight? I don't think you wish to stand here and get judged by all of these straight nose Aurors any longer and I don't want to waist your time; but you might be someone who will respect my views." he said softly yet straight forward having come back into his normal state of mind. He respected when someone just came out and said what they were thinking and he knew others usually felt the same. "My name is Silvyr Svan by the way." he extended his hand towards her.

Jack could see that the man was uncomfortable, but she did nothing to make him feel better. Jack was not a comforting person, she was a "get over it" person. And besides, it was not him they were all gawking at and passing judgements on. She could look past all of that. And on the plus side, she had their attention. She could convince them of whatever the hell she wanted.

But she felt her stare turning to the man before her and it narrowed on him. He had what he wanted from her and yet he did not move on, he did not leave, he did not go on. Jack was a get what you need and leave type of being. She did not stick around and have small chat or philisophical discussions on the nature of whatever she needed to know. She took the information and split.

But he wanted something more obviously. Everyone was driven by motivation to get something, but he was being unclear. He was seeking answers. Jack thought of the Order. Sure, it frustrated her at times but honestly, if they actually got a solid member base they could do some real good. And now that they were teaming up with the Death Eaters, they needed more numbers to bring Grindelwald down and then try to reclaim the Ministry afterwards.

And honestly, the more she worked the better she felt. The more she had to do, the lest she was forced to dwell, and dwelling led to issues. Her eyes remained on his face, full of distrust and scrutiny- she could not help it, it was who she was. "Yes. I get off at about five... I won't finish here until seven or so. I can be there." She firmly shook his hand. "Jack Dyllan."