Wolfgang Storm was not known for being a nice man at all. His junior staff received more dressing-downs than they had school dinners, and would do anything not to have to raise an issue with him. However, Wolfgang Storm was very good at his job, very good indeed, and today he was even more displeased than usual.

"I dislike being kept waiting." He announced to the wrinkled face of the goblin sat up at the tall desks. Their tiny statures meant they had to climb up on tall stools and sit at desks above the height of average wizards, giving them a feeling of superiority by peering down their incredibly long and ugly noses at the humans below.

The goblin said nothing but disappeared, his head bobbing downwards the other side as he climbed down to go and fetch the relevant party Wolfgang wished to screech at.

Turning on the spot, Wolfgang's long, black robes skimmed the cool, polished marble floors of the long chamber of Gringott's bank. His shoes shone, and beneath his robes were crisply pressed lines of a suit, and an absolutely centred green tie with Durmstrang pin. His arms were folded across his chest, and he glared across the long, ornate hall at the customers.

At least there were few children in today. The school term of Hogwarts had begun the previous day, and the Durmstrang contingents had moved into their more permanent accommodation. Of course it was inferior, everything at Hogwarts was. The Tetra-Wizard hosted by Durmstrang would have been superior, but regrettably, bankrupting to carry off as Auberon wanted.

Preoccupied with his irritation of everything known to man, Wolfgang almost entirely missed Hannah Bombay's presence. Weeks before he had berated his son, Johann, for not pursuing this woman, a healer and learned witch. Wolfgang had learned of her relationship to Johann through family, which displeased him. His son was secretive to the point of distraction these days.

However, on questioning Johann, it appeared he was not so taken with Bombay. At the time, Wolfgang had been enraged. He had heard rumours that Johann was uninterested in women, which only meant interested in the unmentionable. Being an only child, Johann was expected to meet all of Wolfgang's high standards, including bringing home a beautiful, intelligent, well-funded wife.

Recent revelations had entirely turned this wish on its head. Upon hearing Healer Bombay was a werewolf, and also one not meeting her required restrictions only to be fined, Wolfgang entirely forgot his earlier frustrations with his son. Now he wanted Hannah Bombay to have nothing whatsoever to do with Johann, the dirty, disgusting animal she was.

Eyes narrowing, Wolfgang stepped forward, his voice carrying across the hall.
"Come to beg a loan for your fine, Ms Bombay?"

Other heads turned, to Wolfgang, and then on following his gaze, to Hannah. It appeared others in the room shared his instant dislike of lycans.
"I'm surprised they let animals like you in the door."

“I’m not sure you understand me,” Hannah Bombay was close to losing her temper with the goblin peering down his crooked nose at her, “this wand is new, of course it isn’t the same as what I usually use to open my account but I am Hannah Bombay.”

The goblin twisted the wand between his long spindly fingers, warty skin brushing across the smooth wood of the recently acquired instrument. He parted thin lips and questioned why she would be using a different wand and Hannah felt herself resisting the urge to snatch the wand back from the unattractive stuck up creature and hex him to the other side of London with a searing spark up his rear end.

"Come to beg a loan for your fine, Ms Bombay?"

Fortunately for Granglehipp the Goblin the young healer was momentarily distracted by a foreign accented voice breaking the quiet mumble of the hall and attracting her attention along with the attention of many others waiting in queues for various reasons. Hannah’s head turned at the sound of her name, alert eyes searching for the origin of the voice.

"I'm surprised they let animals like you in the door." The voice continued and Bombay’s gaze fell upon him, her body visibly stiffening; discomfort evident in her posture while her expression remained somewhat calm.

The calm, professional and private part of Hannah wanted to ignore the wizard’s attempt to start a conflict and walk out of the bank, head held up high. The part of Hannah that was close to the upcoming full moon and feeling more intense emotions flooding her senses wanted to take him on. Greyfriar’s words about not acting as the public expected flashed into her mind. These words were ignored and the witch twisted back to the goblin.

“Give me my wand.” The goblin curiously obeyed and Hannah’s fingers curled around it before she started to walk towards the rude wizard in black robes and shiny shoes, her own high heeled shoes clicking on the marble floor, the cobalt robes she’d exchanged for her healer’s green gliding just above the floor, open over a smart black dress.

“When they let bigoted imbeciles plagued by ignorance through the door?”

“When they let bigoted imbeciles plagued by ignorance through the door?”

Ooh, what joy, she was coming to play with him. Wolfgang's heart-rate quickened with the expectation, and his eyes lit up. Perhaps he might discover what his son saw in Healer Bombay... and destroy it. Every. Last. Inch.

"Sorry, what was that?" Wolfgang inclined towards her with a hand at his ear, wand in his other hand. His voice was patronising, the sort that was needlessly amplified to embarrass the other party when they did not want attention to be drawn.

"I couldn't make that out, sounded like growls and whimpers." The hand retracted from the ear and waved to indicate the subject was trivial.

Swiftly dispensing, he gestured to the other bankers who were looking cautiously towards them, unusure whether the discussion would escalate. Werewolves clearly made people nervous, and rightly so. Bombay was disgraced.

"Do you feel safe, drawing your savings in the presence of an uncontrollable animal? Its your taxes that fund looking after them - these werewolves." He explained, "and worse still, this one believes she is safe to be a healer." He turned back to Hannah, and looked her up and down.

"Tsk. Britain really is going to the dogs."

[I'm really sorry how long it's taken me to reply, Kit]

The hate mail had already been plaguing Hannah Bombay. The howlers had interrupted her work days, the owls piled up on her doormat and her windows shattered by various items hurled at her flat from passing brooms. Bombay was aware how much the public hated her and most probably Greyfriar. They had apparently put the wizarding and muggle population in danger because of their selfishness and carelessness. Hannah was becoming accustomed to harsh words scribbled onto parchment or being yelled from a yet lifelike note.

She neither used to nor appreciative of someone taking it upon themselves to yell at her in a public building and make a scene.

“I change into an uncontrollable monster once a month, Sir.” Hannah moved closer, trying to ignore the numerous pairs of eyes focused upon her, eager to watch the display. “It would appear you are a monster unable to hold his tongue in public every day the sun rises. You, someone eager to judge and spread hate believe yourself to be above a witch that, despite an unfortunate event that occurs every month, saves lives everyday as a career.”

A couple of sparks sizzled from the tightly gripped wand as Bombay tried to reign in her building anger. It really wasn’t the most sensible time of the month to aggravate a werewolf and certainly not one at the end of her tether and patience when it came to dealing with haters.

"Saves lives? How is that going, locked in a cage each month, your face plastered on newspapers?"

Wolfgang stepped forwards, his eyes narrowed, and voice hushing a little,
"Tell me, do they only give you cases that can't elect to be healed by another, the unconscious, unknowing? Do they let you near the ones near death, or do they worry you'll tear into them raw?" He mimicked claws and biting with his hands.

"Still, that's one way of dealing with the dead you and your kind create each month, when you're not adding to your ranks. The way this carries on, Britain will be sniffing each other's backsides to greet each other and there'll be an epidemic of fleas." Spittle flew from his mouth, and from out the corner of his eye he saw two goblins approaching, unimpressed with the interruption.

"Its all right boys, you're in no danger, we'll just ask Ms Bombay to sit... once she's stopped pointlessly begging for her kind to be understood."