"It's okay, really," he said, the last of his laughter dying away. "Honestly, I'm glad you haven't pulled your wand on me and called for back-up."
He looked down at his shirtsleeves and turned them over, examining.
"And no dried blood. At least, not today. What they've got you looking for are the generally threatening types of werewolves. I have had exceptional luck in my life, if you forget the whole being-bitten part. Most werewolves are homeless, don't hold jobs, and can't integrate into society. And the lack of medical care is appalling. Most don't make it into their 40s."
He poured himself some more tea and leaned back into the couch.
"So, yes, that's why I'm working on the legislation, though not really for me. I've managed to slip through some loopholes with the help of good people. Sirius, for one. You ever wonder why he became an animagus?"