Recovering

"When I agreed to give you autonomy, it was with the belief that you would be able to handle this threat," Kingsley muttered, voice filled with frustration and anger as he rubbed his brow tiredly. "Yet, I find myself faced with more problems now, more than ever before."

He hadn't even been Minister for a year and not only did he have to pick up the pieces what was left from Magical Britain after Voldemort had finished. He was also trying to implement much needed political reforms and facing strong opposition constantly from the Purebloods. And now, he had a Werewolf threat right here in Britain.

"Merlin's sake, they've all but conquered the entire south-eastern section of Magical Britain and my Auror force is stretched thin trying to stop them from pushing further north or west," Kingsley explained the situation, showing just how bleak things had become in the past few days.

But Croaker, who sat calmly in his seat across from him showed no change in countenance. No sign of anger or frustration, he was just irritatingly calm, and it was doing wonders in further winding Kingsley up the wall.

In response to this, Kingsley angrily threw the recent issue of the Daily Prophet down on the table, indicating the most recent raid of the Werewolves. Over thirty Wizards and Witches were killed and a further twenty were severely injured and showing signs of being infected by the Lycanthropy virus.

"You gave me your word, that this would not be a problem. That you would deal with it while I pick up the pieces left by Voldemort. That was the agreement." Kingsley angrily spoke, fists clenched in anger, not at Croaker, but the Werewolves.

"Don't worry, Minister, everything will be handled as I promised. This…" Croaker waved his hand, indicating to the newspaper and its frontline news. "Is but a minor bump in the road. Mister Potter is making a rapid recovery; however, the situation could be handled more…quickly if we were to be provided more funding. I have my eye on a few recruits that could help quicken the removal of our pest infestation. I'm just short of the funds to properly train them."

Kingsley's lips twisted showing his displeasure. "We're currently facing a crisis and all you can think about is funding?" Croaker just rose a brow, silently asking if he was meant to be thinking of anything else.

To Croaker, getting overly emotional at this point was just an unnecessary distraction, one that he had thought Kingsley would be able to recognise. However, it seemed he overestimated the new Minister if he allowed himself to be ruled by his emotions like this.

"Is that a no on the funding?" Croaker replied, Kingsley's face twisting further.

Pulling out a file, he opened it up and began writing down a number. Finishing it off with a final twirl of his quill, he finished it off with a stamp and ripped it off, passing it to Croaker. Taking the offered piece of paper, he looked it over and gave a hum of approval.

"I'm sure that will be enough?" Kingsley asked, though his tone told him that he would not go higher.

"For now." Croaker completely ignored it, rising to his feet, and going to leave, but not before pausing. "May I?" He turned back, pointing to the Daily Prophet and Kingsley nodded his head, waving Croaker out of his office.

Taking the Daily Prophet, Croaker made his way out of the office while looking over the list of the dead. One name, in particular, jumped out of him, the name of someone close to those he loved.

William Weasley.

'Such a shame, he was quite a gifted Curse Breaker.' Putting the newspaper under one arm, Croaker continued to make his way down the corridors of the Ministry of Magic. 'Though this could be of use in other ways.'

-X- Line Break -X-

Making his way towards the Healing Department, Croaker watched Gareth step out, a slight frown upon his face. To say that Gareth had been displeased at taking such risks with Harry's life was an understatement. The healing process to stabilise Harry alone had resulted in him dying on the operating table half a dozen times.

When they were operating on Harry and trying to rapidly bring him back to full fighting condition, it had been worse. Six times he had died on that operating table and with each death, it had been harder and harder to bring him back.

It had taken three days of constant operation and careful watching before they had finally managed to finish.

He had been unconscious for a further day before finally awakening. "He's awake, moving around though he still needs two days to rest and recover. The procedures he has undergone have put his body through immense stress."

"But he'll be fine?" Croaker responded.

"For now. Like I told you before, we don't know what long term effects this could have. We could be lucky, and nothing could come about of this, he's already got a constitution that all things considered, should have killed him. But he's still alive so you may be lucky and there may not be any problems at all. However, I suggest he be undergoing double the number of medical checks than any other Field Agent just to be safe."

Croaker nodded his head, moving past Gareth. "That is fine." Pushing open the door, he entered to find a shirtless Harry, stretching his hands up in the air as he groaned out. Several scars were littering his torse as a result of the medical operation in which they had to open him up. They looked very fresh, and the stitches were visible.

"Croaker." Harry greeted upon noticing him, continuing to stretch off his aching body. "When do I go back out in the field?"

Smirking, Croaker shook his head. "Soon. Gareth has been very strict and firm about when you can return to the field. I forced him to take some…risks to speed up your recovery. But, he has put his foot down so to speak and refuses to let you enter the field until your body has rested. It was a quite taxing process so he is as you can imagine, displeased. However, it is only two days, the Werewolves have been running rampant for four days, I doubt another two will make anything much worse."

He then pulled out the newspaper, handing it over to Harry who took it cautiously. "Do look at the list of deceased, there's a name on there you might recognise." Harry looked up, silently questioning him, but looked back down and his eyes scrolled down the list before stopping on the name, William Weasley.

Emerald eyes narrowed, a light glow growing as his fingers clenched tightly, the Daily Prophet suddenly bursting into flames.

"You're angry? Good." Croaker said, a smile growing on his face as he watched Harry's anger grow. "Keep that anger within you, temper it and then, when you return to the field, unleash it upon these animals. Kill them all."

"You said two days, right?" Harry asked, Croaker nodding his head. "Good, then that gives us time. I have someone in mind, someone very good at making little 'gifts' that could prove useful. With your permission, I'd like to bring him aboard."

"Are you certain he can be trusted?"

"He can, especially considering his brother has just died, I doubt he'd be very sympathetic to the Werewolves, nor will be unwilling to help," Harry replied. "If it'll make you feel better, I'll make him sign a Magical Contract."

"If my intuition is right, then he would be a wonderful new member of our organisation."