He felt vaguely sick, or vaguely watched — Kieran had been antsy all day, unable to settle, unable to do anything but shrug and fake a smile when other reporters at the Prophet talked to him about the Skeeter piece that morning. He felt as if he had allowed Morwenna to ruin what was left of her life, but it was not up to him to tell her what she could and could not do — she had lost her only son, her only child, and years of managing a condition like lycanthropy was enough to make anyone wish for an easy out.

But he also feared for himself, for tying himself to something like this, and for very possibly burning his access to the Ministry on sentimentality. But — Jude and Kieran largely agreed that more palatable public werewolves were necessary for acceptance. That meant some werewolves had to make the choice to out themselves. (Kieran was — not palatable, and not willing to do that, and fairly confident that if he tried Jude would have him trapped in his attic.) And Jude was excited — he seemed to think that the aftermath from the article could be chaotic but good for lycanthropic causes. Kieran primarily felt panicked.

He didn't want to drink when he was half-scared of being arrested as an accomplice, but suspected that Jude might be in the Augurey, already scheming with their friends. (Alternatively — chaining himself to something in the Ministry.) He couldn't escape the Prophet offices until that evening, too busy catching up on other drafts and running Pengloss, again, through the sources he'd use for the article, and the reasons that Skeeter trusted him with this. (Some, but few, of the reasons he gave were even truthful.)

But when he got to the Augurey — no Jude, and no Eileen, either. He swallowed, and scanned quickly for a familiar face — he had only met the potioneer a few times, but he'd once talked to her on background, an he'd always found her pleasant. Kieran cleared his throat, tentative: "I don't suppose you've seen Wright? Tall, blond, passionate lycanthrope defender?"