I hunt for you across the hallowed ground

Monroe had long ago decided that patience was highly underrated. Shylock and Destrey made much of his supposed lack of conscience, but Monroe knew his success had more to doing the right thing at the right time. Take this, for example; he'd been waiting for circumstances to line up just right ever since that fateful interview when Jacquelline Dyllan had inadvertently put this idea into his head.

That Lily Potter, only daughter of The Chosen One, happened to have become a werewolf in the meantime was sheer good fortune. Even Monroe couldn't have planned that. Convenient, too. He was persuasive, yes, but not stupid. No public figure was going to volunteer to become a werewolf without encouragement.

He stopped in front of her office door and knocked.

She was trying not to count down the days. Apollo was graduating early but it wasn't like it made the situation any less worse. A professor publicly dating a student right after graduation was still something to turn heads. And even if she moved on to a new job, the assumption would be that they had been together - never mind the fact that they were together before she even got the position. Not that any of this mattered. She didn't have a new job lined up, his graduation was still over a month away, and she had things to focus on.

Like exams.

Which, side note, was much worse for the professors than people gave credit.

So despite her misanthropy, she was almost relieved to be interrupted during her test prep. Drawing her robes around her to ward off the settling chill, she crossed to the door and pulled it open.

"Can I help you?"

"Lily Potter?" Monroe enquired, though he already knew it was her. He could barely remember her from school, but the general features seemed to fit. "I'm Monroe Ashcroft."

And she must know that already, too. Regular use of a hairbrush and the ability to iron his shirts didn't make him look so different from Shylock.

"May I come in?"

He had features that were vaguely familiar, but she couldn't be sure if she recognized his face specifically or a face like it or some other sense of familiarity- Ah, there was the last name. She couldn't imagine what Shylock's brother wanted of her, but she sense it probably wasn't a good thing - especially if Shylock hadn't warned her.

"Hi," she said, the disbelief melting away into an almost warmth. "Of course," she said, stepping aside for him to come inside. She looked over the apartment, trying to look better at hosting - which was apparently what she was doing. "Would you like anything to drink?"

"Tea, thank you," he said. "Black."

Monroe shut the door behind him. How he detested social conventions. Though the making of it would probably calm Lily's nerves, and the tea wouldn't go astray right now, he would have much preferred to get straight to the point.

"I hear you've been making friends with my brother," he commented.

Small talk. Even worse.

Lily inclined her head and walked towards the kitchen, marveling a bit about how much she had sounded like Ginny, or perhaps Teddy, in her offer. It wasn't so long ago that she had answered the door to Kit's brother, forcing him to remain on the stoop as she stared at him in all her doped-up, pajama-clad glory. Now, she looked neat, trim, and clean in all senses of the word. And remarkably normal as she prepared tea.

She nodded at his words. "I have," she said, her voice cautious as though worried to incriminate herself. She knew very little about Monroe, and wasn't sure if her friendship with his brother was a welcome one or not. She decided to figure that out right off the bat. "Is he why you're here? Everything okay?"

Ah, good. She was already trying to discern the reason for his visit.

"He's fine, so far as I'm aware," he replied. "Thank you for asking."

Now was a good time to broach, perhaps not the entire reason for his visit, but at least to lead up to it. But how to go about it? Unlike most people he interacted with, Monroe didn't have a lot of information on Lily Potter. He could hardly grill Shylock about her, and most of the information at The Ministry pertained to either her family or her illness, making it practically useless. And the girl - woman - herself was hardly an open book.

Monroe fought the urge to clear his throat. It wasn't often he felt nervous, but there was a lot riding on this and Lily was an unknown quantity.

"And yourself?" he asked. "How have you been?"

He was polite, curt, almost professional. No, certainly professional. And it didn't seem like he was speaking carefully because of nerves. She couldn't place her finger on it exactly, but it was almost like colleagues who did not know each other well. Except she didn't know this man, this stranger, at all. And he was in her quarters.

She poured the tea and delivered his cup to the small table, indicating that he sit, before she sit across from him. He wasn't getting to the subject, so she supposed it was best they... settle in? She wasn't sure. She hadn't had a visitor all year, not even her adopted brother who worked in the very same building. She wasn't exactly sure how to host.

His question was what struck her as odd. A stranger, inquiring after her health and well being. Perhaps it was just courtesy, common manners, but she had been raised under a microscope, her name a beacon for the curious and the gossipy, the ambitious and the nefarious. Even her time in Hogwarts had been shrouded in whispers and conspiracies and despite the truth behind these secrets, she had not yet made her peace with this.

"I'm fine but I'm sorry," she said, practically interrupting herself. "It's just... is there something I can do for you? I don't often get visitors, especially from people I know only by association."

And then she did the thing.

Monroe knew she would do it sooner or later. People usually did, if he hung around being polite and circumspect for long enough. "Why are you here?" was the worst outcome, but thankfully British mannerisms made it rare, except among the likes of the aurors and muggle police force. "What can I do for you?" was his favourite.

"There is, in fact," he answered smoothly. "That's why I'm here."

He knew he had to tread carefully from here on out. Werewolves were notoriously defensive about their illness. And Potters were notoriously defensive full stop. From her sudden outburst, it didn't seem like Lily was any exception.

"I have a proposition for you. It concerns your lycanthropy. You're free to decline, of course."

It was completely true. Monroe's plan was entirely his own affair, and he doubted it would become official ministry policy until he made it a success. But Lily didn't need to know that.

He didn't seem shaken or offended, which led her to believe that he did indeed have a very specific agenda, and that he wanted to get to it just as much as she did. She felt nervous and vulnerable, but she reminded herself that she was in control her. Her home, her job, her rules. She lifted the cup to her lips and took a slow, controlled sip.

She lowered her tea and stared at him, the half proposition hanging in the air. He didn't press forward - perhaps because he thought she would refuse anything to do with that part of her life.

She blinked. "I'd like to hear it before I decline."