At Knox Greyfriar's house, Fauna sat in a rickety chair by the stone hearth, cradling a cup of tea in her hands and soaking up the cozy atmosphere. Or trying to. The last time she'd visited her former Headmaster at his home had been in April, after the attack at the Ministry. She still felt uneasy here, though she put on a cheerful front.

Fauna and Knox could not seem to escape their werewolves. They had been attacked, scratched, and pitted against each other for a short time as the lines between human and beast blurred. Even in this quiet house with stew simmering in the kettle, wolves lurked, making shadows on the stone walls and creeping in with the wind under the window.

Fauna was worried about him. She'd heard all about his full moon adventure in August. There had to be a good reason why he'd be out with another werewolf so late, but as Fauna made small talk, conflicting emotions churned up beneath the surface. These past few months, she'd learned things about a few people in her life that she'd rather not know. Knox Greyfriar's accident fell along those same lines.

"I hope I get to see it," she continued their conversation about the upcoming Tournament. "I might have to fight the other trainees to get on security, but it'll be worth it. Do you think you'll go?"

She took a sip of tea, watching him. Important Ministry folks were expected to pubically support the Tournament, but she'd understand if he opted not to deal with the crowds.

"Not sure yet," Knox said brightly.

Knox was standing at the work surface, a tall worn wooden table.  He had a large knife in his large knuckled-hand, and was chopping large beets for a stew simmering in an alcove in the large hearth.  The deep red juice ran away from his blade, and stained his hands.

He was doing his best to be in a cheerful mood - Fauna was here for a visit and it had been a long time since he'd seen her.  She was impressively grown up now and that brought him nothing but pride and admiration.  She seemed taller.  Her hair had changed, he thought.  She seemed more confident, maybe.  Just something about her was changed.  But the Aurors will do that.  Merlin, little Fauna Blake was an Auror.

He wasn't fooled though.  He knew why she'd come by, and he was glad to have her.  It had been a very very rough month.  Despite the tranquility of the moment, there was a heap of nasty papers by his large chair.  They were wrinkled, some crumpled, and all generally unloved.  It was an angry kind of clutter - not the loving hoarding he bestowed upon journals, articles, and newspapers. 

"We'll have to see.  I'd like to, certainly.  See all the students again, walk the grounds.  Haven't been back to the castle yet.  You know how little love was lost between Snark and I, figured it was best to keep my distance.  But now, well, Reid's a good man and doesn't know me well enough to know better."  He smiled as he kept his eyes down on his cooking, an ivory white smile contrasted against his dark beard. 

"Do you like garlic?" he asked, as he reached above his head to the jungle of dried herbs, plants and bulbs that hung there.

"Sure," Fauna replied to his question, offering him a smile. It made sense that he didn't know if he was going to the tournament yet, though at least Headmaster Reid seemed more tolerant than Snark had been.

"I was kind of... surprised to hear who the Goblet picked," she admitted with only a slightly sheepish look. It was fun to talk about, and her conversation with Fig and Ligeia had just been the beginning of the speculation. "I mean, Josh is no surprise. He's always been a model student, prefect, that kind of thing." She'd certainly appreciated his help with SAWS.

"Erin I don't know very well, but he is a Slytherin," she wrinkled her nose with mild, playful disgust that reflected her House prejudices. She remembered him and Dax fighting a lot, and had mostly stayed out it, except when Dax had pulled that stunt on the train ride home.

"Then there's Sasha..." she trailed off, regretting mentioning his name the second she said it. There was no way to prove he'd written that scathing editorial in the Daily Prophet[1], but Fauna couldn't help but recognize the initials he'd used (since they were the same in the letters he'd addressed to her), as well as the tone. Her gaze straying to the stack of crumpled papers, she looked back at Knox.

If he were blissfully oblivious, she shouldn't be the one to tell him. But then again, maybe she'd brought up Sasha's name for a reason.

1.	Article here.

Knox nodded and smiled as he used unpeeled the papery layers covering the garlic cloves.  He too was amused and perplexed at the Goblet's strange wisdom.  Josh Harcroft - yes a very easy-to-agree-with choice.  Son of an Auror, truly Gryffindor.  And conversely the troubled and troublesome Erin Harper. 

He laid the flat of his knife on top of the peeled garlic cloves in turn, and brought the heel of his hand down, giving the garlic a thwack between the flat of the knife and the hard table-top.  It would release the garlic's individual covering, and begin to release its strong flavors.

But at the mention of Sasha's name, he brought his hand down harder than before, and when he drew up the knife, the little clove was more mangled than planned.  He frowned.

"Sasha..." 

Knox had always wanted a better relationship with him, a boy in a very complicated position, all drawn up inside with his own self-limiting codes of conduct and decorum.  But his friendship with the student had ended when by another unfortunate accident, Knox had been bitten by a werewolf.

"You think it was him, then?" he asked Fauna, nodding at the stack of papers he saw her glance at.  Knox had read them all.  All the nasty mail, and the letters the Prophet was printing.  (Jackals.)  But the scathing, well-crafted essay from the 15th had stung of familiarity.  He'd only barely suspected, without even knowing he did.  And Fauna's look confirmed it.

He set his jaw and shook his head.  He had a great deal of shouting left in him, so tired he was of behaving like an orderly, professional wizard.  He had to export such a calm, tranquil non-threatening aura in order to be taken seriously, to be considered as a human.  Even the slightest bit of wrath or ire was characterized as animalistic and barbaric and could only come from the curse, not of course, from a wizard's human convictions.

“Knox!” The young woman’s fist banged on the front door of what she could only describe as a shack. This visit to the Wizengamot elder’s home hadn’t involved walking for miles through woodland in a storm and inappropriate footwear. This time Bombay had been aware of where to apparate and the weather had been in her favour. Possibly the only thing in her favour at present.

The pale and worried facial expression, red eyes and shaking body contrasted dramatically against the witch’s otherwise perfect appearance. Her hair was smartly pulled back off her face, ringlets falling onto her shoulders that was covered by a smartly tailored set of dark blue robes. In Hannah’s right hand was a bulging leather bag with the sleeve of a dress hanging out and the buckle struggling to remain clasped and keep its contents within.

Barely a thought had gone into Hannah’s arrival except for packing essentials. She hadn’t known who’s doorstep she would end upon this evening but as soon as her wand had been grasped between her fingers to apparated one wizard’s name had been at the forefront of her mind.

Knox Greyfriar was experiencing the same torment as Hannah. Or so the healer presumed. He was in her position, he’d promised they would be able to have a retrial, to overturn the verdict and for their names to be dragged back out of the dirt yet neither had realised how bad and personal all this would become. How their own personal sanctuary could be defecated with them left to feel vulnerable. Yet despite his evident dislike for Hannah and her disapproval of his...well him, she’d chosen to come to him for help.

Barely a moment had passed before Hannah once more banged on the door. “Greyfriar open this door! Please!”

There was a long pause. "Yeah," Fauna said quietly. By the set of his jaw, he already knew. "It's... there are a lot of similarities to the letters he wrote me a while back."

Sitting in his house, sipping at the tea he'd made, Fauna wanted to reassure him that Sasha was just being a jerk, that he was too affected by his own traumatic experiences to consider Knox's situation with understanding and compassion. But she wasn't sure she believed it. She was angry at Sasha for heaping more negativity on Knox Greyfriar's shoulders, but not because she necessarily disagreed.

"Can I ask-"

Fauna jumped at the banging on the door, set down her tea so quickly it sloshed down the sides, and stood, giving Knox a worried glance at the panic in the visitor's voice.

The loud banging on the door interrupted them both, and in a calm reflex that many witches and wizards learned quite early, he set down the hefty blade, and took up his slight little wooden wand.  Any muggle would wonder at the juxtaposition, but no magical folk would dare.

But immediately following the banging came the melodious shouting of his least favorite comrade of the full moon.

"It's Hannah Bombay," he told Fauna Blake, to assure her that the creature battering his gate was no threat.  He used his wand to whip a pattern in the air with a mumble of unlocking, and the seven locks on his door all turned, slide, and unlatched in turn.   A final audible click released the heavy wooden door with the the rounded top, and it swung upon loose just a crack. 

"Better come inside, Hannah.  The neighbors will talk."  It was a wry joke - Hannah had oft offered her critique of Knox's remote, thickety, small domicile. 

"Are you acquainted with Fauna Blake?" he asked Hannah as she entered?  "She's an Auror Trainee.  Fauna, this is Healer Bombay."

Pleasentries and politeness.  But he could expect why she was here.  To vex him and demand results, probably. 

It appeared to take a ridiculous amount of time for the door to finally swing open and reveal the burly figure of a wizard Hannah was unfortunately no longer a stranger to. Healer Bombay now knew the unkempt bearlike face, the bulging belly courtesy of stew and the great booming baritone too well. It wasn’t even as if they had once been encountered in pleasant circumstances, Hannah was rather becoming conditioned to expect rudeness, humiliation and shouting when she was in the company of this particular wizard.

This time would doubtlessly be no expectation.

When the door finally did open a puny amount, a strange explanation came with the invitation to enter. Hannah’s brow furrowed, thin brown eyebrows threatening to knit together.

“When slugs and birds learn how to talk I’ll start to fret about your neighbours, Greyfriar.” Humour, as ever, was lost on Hannah Bombay as she stepped into the small shack followed by the bag which dropped onto the floor beside the door.

A pair of alert brown eyes swept to the other inhabitant of the already crowded space and the healer’s lips pursed. She hadn’t expected Knox to get visitors. He didn’t strike her as the likable sort to have friends. He was loud, moody and hairy? Who found those things positive in a wizard?

“Hm.” The witch murmured as she folded her arms over her chest. “One of your helpful contacts I suppose?"

Fauna tried a smile at the woman, who glanced over the kitchen like she was surprised to see people in it. Or perhaps just Fauna. Annoying visitors with her presence in other people's homes seemed to be the theme these past few months, but at least Fauna could rest assured that the newcomer wouldn't insist on combat practice in the living room[1].

Bombay... she must be related to the former Herbology professor. She could see the relation in her furrowed eyebrows.

"I don't know about 'helpful'," Fauna joked as she crossed her arms in turn, not bothering to tell her that they were nothing so formal as contacts.

"If you need to talk to him, I can..." Fauna glanced around the house, reminded of how tiny it was. "Take a walk for a bit, or something." she offered, studying her weary expression, and then remembering where else she knew the name from. The Daily Prophet article! Fauna glanced at Knox, curiosity spiking.

1.	Referring to this visit here!

Knox also tried to smile.  Fauna's presence, as Knox was sure many people in her acquaintance had also noticed, seemed to prompt people to be at their best.  Knox didn't want to be a growly old git in front of her - she'd seen enough of his rough side already.  And as an indeterminately optimistic witch, she deserved better manners. 

"No."

Fauna just couldn't just off and leave him with Bombay.  It would ruin his night.

"Stay.  Please.  At least until we've eaten."

He set his wand back down, and again took up his cooking preparations.  Blood red beets  and potent garlic now chopped, he slid them off the table-top and into a wooden bowl.  Celery was left now, a quick task. 

Glancing at Fauna, and hearing Bombay's inaccurate representation of their relationship, he thought he ought to better explain.

"Fauna is a former student.  Hufflepuff.  Now in her first year of training.  She's a friend, but is helpful even if she won't admit it," he said, glancing up occasionally from his work.  His large knife rocked forward and back as he chopped out a pile of celery crescent moons, fresh and pale and green. 

"Healer Bombay was with me when we were trapped out.  Also a werewolf, she too transformed in the open.  If I recall correctly, she did the very vital work of mending my leg in the thick of the moment.  She is also... helpful."

He made eye contact with her, hoping for a moment that the accusation of her being helpful would come true.

The young guest of Greyfriar’s looked wide eyed, innocent and oblivious that her host was an angry loud brute with a superiority complex and wolf breath. Doubtlessly she wouldn’t be here if she was aware. Hannah herself wasn’t sure why this was the location she’d apparated to in her flurry of panic and vulnerability. The wizard didn’t just put her on edge, he pushed her over it into the oblivion of being arrested and ruining her sterling reputation and simple, well organised life. As far as Bombay was concerned, the state of her flat and her nerves were down to him and yet she’d ended up on his doorstep.

Unfortunately, Hannah hadn’t expected an audience to her offset nerves and uneasy comportment.

"Take a walk for a bit, or something." Fauna offered, seeming to feel the gaze burning into her skull and Hannah’s lips parted, about to tell her how that was a smart idea when Greyfriar rudely declined with what were several bearish grunts escaping from behind an untamed animal hanging from his great chin.

The bright eyed gaze switched to her former professor and the healer felt her nails digging into her arms. He tried explaining their relationship to this Fauna and left out every word Hannah would have to describe the situations they’d been involved in.

“You’re not.” Bombay replied flatly, meeting Greyfriar’s gaze with badly concealed worry behind her eyes. “Especially if Flora the wide eyed daisy is the only ally from the abundance you promised we had. Right now the only thing the public will think she’s good to us for is in that stew you’re cooking.”

Some of Flora's wide-eyed innocence dimmed. She opened her mouth, then shut it, her mouth thinning into a line. She gave Bombay the ray of sunshine a long look, reminding herself that she was not in an easy situation, and that she didn't really know her. Even so, a flush crept up her cheeks.

"It's Fauna," she stated, then pointedly focused her attention on Knox as she took a seat at the table. If he wanted her to stay, she was going to stay, no matter Hannah's attitude. He'd said Fauna was helpful. It was a little thing, but it reminded her why she was there, why she cared.

"Can you tell me what happened? I mean, I read the papers, but..."

She looked apologetically at her former professor. The papers had not shed a favorable light on the two werewolves. Fauna hoped, both for their sake and her own comfort, that they had a very good reason for being trapped out in the open the night of the full moon.

My my, did Bombay make civility ever more difficult to reach.  Knox scooped all the cut veg into his large hands, and turned away from the two witches to dump it all into the already working cauldron.  He have it a wave with his wand to get things cooking with renewed vigor.  All the while gritting his teeth.

He glared at Bombay who seemed to have arrived, without invitation or notice, to harp on him on what progress he'd presumably not made in over-turning the Wizengamot's severe penalty for their accidental infraction.  He was as motivated as she was to find some kind of resolution, and so he didn't take kindly to her demands.  Especially when her solution was to howl in open court.

He let his glare stand with Bombay for the moment, and instead decided to answer Fauna's question.  He worked his wand as he began, pulling down handled soup bowls from a high cubby.

"It's easy enough to belief if you know anything about the old hermit, but I'd been sent for what is essentially a Wizengamot house-call.  A routine visit to a remote little house that all expected to be quite a simple affair.  I took along Healer Bombay here, as her skills were required by the Wizengamot for this task," he explained.

He settled into a chair now, to continue the tale and wait for their dinner to finish. 

"The old man had battened down the hatches in his ancient age, no Apparition, no Floo.  Which would not have been a problem but that when we arrived we found him dead and then his house devoured us both."

Knox Greyfriar could glare until his eyeballs dried up and fell out, Hannah wouldn’t change the way she dealt with him. He’d dragged her to that house in the middle of nowhere, he’d physically manhandled her and dragged her from the courtroom when they’d been unfairly prosecuted and punished and he’d promised to sort it. It was Greyfriar’s fault Hannah was stood awkwardly in his living room while he cooked stew for the only friend he probably had.

“Now, Fauna, we’re stuck as the public’s favourite enemy because he was convinced the simple procedure would be done in plenty of time.” Hannah unfolded her arms and started to move away from the front door in the tiny, claustrophobic and warm room. “I could fill a trunk with the amount of howlers and letters that have harassed me at home and at work. I’ve been yelled at and called all sorts in the street.” Hannah’s gaze shot from Fauna to Knox “You said you’d find allies and get this verdict overturned, Knox, and instead I’m left homeless, almost jobless and having to bury a pet.”

Perhaps speaking to the gruff older wizard in such a tone wasn’t the best way to get his help but Hannah had never claimed to be an expert at dealing with people when they were conscious. If he were dead or asleep she’d doubtlessly do far better. Unfortunately this were-wizard was very much alive and very much awake far too much of the time.

As Knox and Hannah explained, she glanced between the two with a subconsciously neutral expression. She could understand how it could happen, she could imagine the two of them, even experienced wizards – gruff Greyfriar and petite, particular Bombay, being sucked into the house of a paranoid wizard.

Accusation flashed in Bombay’s eyes as she glanced at Knox, and a small part of her understood that too. Everyone who ever read the Prophet would know she was a werewolf now. In general though, they’d gotten off easy. Did they expect no fines, no consequences?

But it seemed the world had a way of meting out its own form of justice. Fauna’s expression softened when Bombay described the harassment she was facing, and at her last statement, the smell of the stew cooking made her stomach lurch.

“Wait,” she held up a hand, eyes widening. “Someone killed your pet?”

There had to be something she could do about that. Hurting an animal was just cruel, and signaled a much greater threat than angry howlers.