“Excuse me?” The young healer breathed, staring in stunned amazement at the witch across the counter.

“I’m not serving you.”

“And why not?”

“I don’t wish to have your kind sully my shop and my merchandise.”

Hannah gave a nervous laugh.
“My kind? I’m just a normal witch, like yourself.” She paused and eyed the clerk. “Except I’m not a prejudice bigot.”

Inside Hannah Bombay was screaming, furious, upset. Here was another person in a long line of people who now hated her for something far beyond her own control. Another witch that wished to prevent Hannah from leading a normal life everyday bar one a month. It was unnerving how cruel people could be. How they could happily publicly humiliate someone.

“You’re a monster, Bombay! I’ve read all about you and I don’t want you in my store.” People in the shop had turned around the view the spectacle and the colour was quickly draining from Hannah’s face as she glanced at them.

“Go on,” The witch began to walk around the counter, her wand out and pointed at Hannah. “I don’t want you biting me or my customers. Get out of my store, now. Didn’t you see the sign? No animals allowed.”

Hannah backed up slowly, alert brown eyes flashing between the wand and the face of yet another ignorant hater. But before she knew it the woman yelled a spell which hit the healer squarely in the chest.

The spell’s power sent Hannah flying backwards out of the shop’s entrance to land hard on the ground in the middle of the busy alley.

“And stay out, you filthy beast!” Came the yell of the witch before the door slammed and Hannah was left winded and yearning for the ground to swallow her up.

Mark was walking down the street, his satchel over his shoulder, walking home with a smile on his face. It was a fulfilling day at work, he brewed some new stuff, and now he was just walking back to the apartment, when he passed by the small spat between Bombay and the store owner. He heard the loud discussion, then, out of no where, some poor girl came flying out and into the middle of the street.

"Oh my god, are you alright?" Mark asked, walking up to Bombay, not having heard anything about her. He didn't even know what her name was. He went to her side, extending a hand. "Can I help you up?" He asked, looking her up and down, making sure there weren't any major wounds. There weren't. 

M for Language

"Oh my god, are you alright?" A voice came from her side and Hannah’s eyes, full of shocked disbelief shot around for her gaze to fall on the kind or nosy stranger that had stopped in the street to probably make the problem worse. Because this was the only reason someone would stop to speak to a known werewolf who’d just been thrown out onto the street. Hannah’s previously rocky relationship with live witches and wizards had only worsened and now she trusted the intentions of no one.

A hand was offered by the handsome stranger and Hannah’s alert eyes noted his own gaze travelling the length of her body. The witch instantly stiffened and started to push herself to her feet, ignoring the extended hand of possible helpfulness. Bombay never made willing physical contact with a person unless she was treating someone.  The witch placed too much value on personal space and distancing herself from everyone.

“I’m fine.” The healer muttered, looking down and moving to dust herself off. As her hand touched the dress, Hannah winced and pulled it back. She looked down at it with a frown. Gravel was imbedded in her skin.  “Merlin’s…” Hannah took a deep breath, shaking her head.

“Fine….I’m fucking fine.”

Mark winced, seeing the gravel in her skin. "You don't look fucking fine." He joked. He smiled a little, trying to lighten the mood. He cleared his throat, trying to disregard his bad joke. Mark didn't know what to do, when it finally clicked in his mind. He smiled once more, raising one finger. "Wait here, for one minute." He said, as he jogged into the store.

"Excuse me? Who's the owner here?" He said loudly, in the small shop, puffing out his chest, his eyes scanning each person in the shop.

"It's my shop. What can I do for you." responded the same lady, who had thrown Hannah out.

"I'd like an explanation on why you just kicked an ordinary witch-"

"She's not ordinary! She's a beast!

Mark raised one eyebrow. Discrimination, the one thing he hated. "Look, no one is a beast, understand? And if I see you make any attack, verbal or not to my girlfriend again, I will make your life living hell." He threatened, before turning around, and walking out the door.

He reproached Bombay, with a sheepish smile on his face. "Sorry, it's really not my place to stick my nose in, but I don't do discrimination. Hey, you've had a long day. Let me buy you lunch?" He asked.

Before Hannah could stop him, the wizard marched back into the store and left the healer stood on the street, staring towards the shop in a mixture of curiosity and disdain. Well she wasn’t planning on following him back in there, into the fire, so instead Hannah stepped to the side of the street, out of the crowd and pulled her wand out. She wanted to get this mess out of her bloody hand.

If Bombay had of heard what was said in the store, she may very well have planned to eat this wizard at the next full moon. Fortunately for him she didn’t hear him announce to a hating public that he was the boyfriend of a known werewolf. He came back, offering a sheepish smile and Hannah carefully regarded him, waiting for the taunting, the hateful remarks.

But they didn’t come. This stranger seemed friendly, a handsome pleasant stranger in a new world inhabited by the prejudice. A strange alien feeling lurked in Hannah’s mind. She wanted to jump on his offer and make friends with the new wizard willing to help her. But unfortunately that wasn’t Hannah. Instead she tried to offer him a polite smile.

“Thank you but…” she sighed. “I don’t need charity. Or saving.” Her gaze flew back down to her hand and the gravel. “I’m adept enough at dealing with people to not need a knight, Mr…friendly man.”

"Hi. I'm Mark. Mark Hunter." He said, extending a hand. "Hey, not saying you need a knight or anything, Miss. I just really can't deal with stupid people who don't understand differences." He shrugged his shoulders. "I just can't stand it when people try to make others out as beasts, or evil just because they don't understand."

"Look, I'm not saying you need charity. You seem to, you know, have your wits about stuff. I hope my little sister grows up to be someone like you, you know, who can stand up for themselves. But that's beside the point. I understand what it's like to get cast away because you're different. And hey, I'm offering lunch." He raised his hands. "Nothing more, just a friendly gesture."

He dug his hands into his pockets. "I mean, it's totally cool if you don't want to, don't worry."

As Mark, Mark Hunter spoke to Hannah, she watched him carefully as though studying his face, his words, his intentions. Her seriously had no idea who he was talking to, did he? Or he was a fairly accomplished actor. It wasn’t people making Hannah out to be a beast. She turned into one every full moon. She grew a snout, fur, sharp claws and a desire to chow down on anything close that could be considered prey.

For a few moments she didn’t respond. Neither did Bombay take his hand to shake it. She just studied him with her analytical brown eyes. People had often accused her of rarely seeing a human being before her, more a body to study, injuries to heal, diseases to catch and cure. It was quite true. But this time she was looking for reasons to stay and spend time with the friendly stranger and reasons to flee, leaving it as a quick encounter that could be just as quickly forgotten about.

Finally, the witch lifted her hand to brush hair from her face before extending it to the wizard who had unfortunately just dug is into his pockets.

“I’m Hannah. Hannah Bombay. Lunch would be appreciated. Thank you.”

Their hands had missed each other. He was used to situations being awkward when he was involved. He smiled a little, as she accepted the invitation. "Okay, great." He said, relieved. He didn't want to upset her anymore, nor insult her. She had been insulted enough today, and he knew that today wasn't much different than every other day.

"Uh, is the Leaky Cauldron alright?" He pointed up the street. "It's right up there, not to far, and you know, you can get a fairly decent meal." He tried to explain. Clearly, she knew what the leaky cauldron was. I mean, she clearly lived near Diagon. And even if she didn't live near Diagon, she probably had heard of the Leaky Cauldron.

“Decency is down to personal perception is it not?” The socially incompetent witch found herself stating before looking away uncomfortably, her gaze falling down to the gravel covered hand. “Aqua ecruto.” A jet of blue water shot from her wand towards the offending hand, sending the piece of gravel shooting from her skin as the witch pursed her lips. It didn’t feel particularly comfortable.

As the witch continued to carefully wash her palm, she looked up at Mark Hunter, brown eyes once again analysing him. “I’ve never eaten there before.” But she’d gotten drunk there and tried to kiss her best and only friend who had to take her home. And would this really be a quiet lunch? People in diagon alley knew exactly who Hannah Bombay was and that meant nothing was quiet anymore. It wasn’t like she was a booming powerful wizard in the Wizengamot like Knox. He could still lead a normal life. Hannah felt like hers had been destroyed

But she was willing to try. The water supply ceased and the wand was placed back in Hannah’s coat pocket. She shook her hand dry and turned on her heel. “Let’s see how decent it is then, Master Hunter.”

Mark shrugged her shoulders. He had never eaten there either, only had drunk himself into oblivion. But he had seen food be served.  "I've never eaten there either, but others say it's fairly good." He really didn't hear that from anyone. But here he was, saying it so they could go inside somewhere. It was cold outside today.

He watched as she cleaned out her wound. He would have loved to give her a hand, but odds are that'd be going to far. He knew that that couldn't have felt good.

“Let’s see how decent it is then, Master Hunter.”

Mark smiled. "Alright Miss Bombay. Let us be on our way!"