[OOM: St. Mungo's Center for Magical Creatures. Sub-basement.]

"I thought I told you to get rid of those."

"Sir?"

"The blasted forks."

"Oh....OH! Those! Yes Sir, you did."

"And yet here they remain? Well within arms reach of subject 122.125?"

"I'm afraid that's correct, Sir. Every time we try to move them somewhere else, they keep finding their way here."

"Have you tried..."

"Locks, spells, and even goblins. Nothing can keep these things away from him."

"It."

"Uh...yes Sir, it."

"Very peculiar. And we've done all sorts of scans on these as well."

"As many as we can do without the aid of a Cursebreaker, yes. I've added that to the long list of questions..."

"When does he get here?"

"She will arrive within the week."

"Good. Right. She. Good. Excellent."

"Like I said, there's a whole list of questions we've been compiling..."

"..."

"Sir?"

"These marks here, the silver ones? Do we have any idea what they're from?"

"That's number seven on the list, Sir. At first we thought they might be embedded memories, what with the sheen and all..."

"It looks like a bite mark."

"That was our best assessment as well, Sir. Maybe a werewolf?"

"Pfft, hardly. What werewolf would cause a silver bite?"

"None that I know of, Sir."

"Exactly."

"But with all due respect, Sir, it's not like there's any record of anything like hi-it in our texts either."

"Too right. Too too right. How are the blood extractions going."

"Uh...good. We're running four groups. Control of course, then a serum, red, and whole blood series."

"What test subjects are we using again?"

"Kneazles and rats, Sir."

"Good show. Right then, keep me posted. And for Merlin's sake floo me the second that Cursebreaker gets here."