It was mid-afternoon when Hannah began to regain consciousness. She’d slept throughout the day, recovering from yet another night shirt at St Mungo’s. It appeared she was often placed on those. This was probably due to a reduction in patients throughout the night, meaning a reduction in the need to communicate with pateints. Hannah preferred this schedule. Most patients slept throughout the night and she didn’t have to talk as much, to be as friendly and welcoming to those coming in during the evening hours. They very rarely wanted friendly conversations. They wanted to be healed and leave as soon as possible. That was fine with Hannah.

Pulling the eye mask from her eyes, Hannah squinted, the bright light steaming through the window assaulting her eyes. This was the strangest element of the night shift, waking in the afternoon to prepare for a night of work. It seemed unnatural, abnormal. But this healer wasn’t exactly normal. She glanced at the alarm clock on her bedside table. 16:00. She’d overslept.

*bang bang bang*

It came from along the corridor. Hannah frowned. She wasn’t expecting anyone. Perhaps it was an annoying neighbour wishing to learn more about the curious woman living in flat 13B. The woman that wore long robes and never seemed to forget the door code.

The banging didn’t stop. Hannah’s lips pursed in irritation as she threw the duvet back and climbed out of bed.  This was the equivalent of someone with a regular sleeping pattern being woken at 6AM. But at least she was already awake. If not she wouldn’t have been in a pleasant mood. So the witch grasped a jumped from the end of her bed and pulled it on over her head as she walked barefooted from the bedroom, padding down the hallway, the eye mask still resting atop her head of messy hair.

The heavy front door was tugged open and Hannah lifted her gaze to see exactly who may have possibly disturbed her sleep.

Her eyebrow quirked.

It had been just another Tuesday morning at the Ministry. Johann had strolled through the atrium, at first not noticing the few faces who turned and looked at him a little longer than normal. Then someone pointed at him. He assumed they were just talking of him, which just inflated his little arrogant streak.

Exchanging a few coins at the Daily Prophet stand, the seller was grinning at him, and chuckled.
"Here, you'll probably want another," He chucked Johann a second copy, and the linguist looked confused. "Page three, bottom of. Congratulations."

Johann's stare slid from his face to the folded paper in his hand. Tucking the second, free copy under his arm, he walked away a bit, unfolding the first copy, and quickly scanning the bottom of the third page[1].

DISGRACED LYCAN HEALER TO WED IN SURPRISE ANNOUNCEMENT

Johann nearly dropped the paper in alarm before his eyes could take in the article. Cynthia Bombay had outdone herself, and the anonymous comment from a colleague, well, there was quite a short list of people who would make such crass jokes. Undoubtedly they couldn't get much on Hannah from her colleagues. Healers not being the sort to make jokes about each other, well, perhaps.

A wedding is planned as soon as possible.

Johann's eyes homed in on the sentence. When? When had they mentioned any rush? Or even marriage actually occurring? Somewhat mortified, Johann had creased down the paper, and given a little 'hurrumph' noise, reminiscent of his father in a temper.

To his memory Hannah would be asleep right now, having been at the hospital all night, and Johann had a rather full day of meetings starting within the hour. The benefit was that he was busy, people wouldn't be able to ask him, if they'd seen this, he'd not have to find answers. But it meant this would sit for some hours. People all over the country were reading this. The papers had his full name!

--

An hour ahead in the day, Camille Storm was already working in Frankfurt. She dealt with personal banking for Chrysopoeia and had done all her working life. Smiling pleasantly as she waved off one of her better clients who had come in to discuss a loan, Camille was surprised to see her squat colleague who dealt with mortgages outside her little office door, waving a copy of the Daily Prophet.

"Congratulations! You kept that quiet!"
"Whatever are you talking about?" Camille seized the newspaper, which had been helpfully folded over to show the relevant article. The bank received all the daily papers it could, each of them arriving throughout the day, keeping abreast of the news. Camille tended to resign herself to those copies in languages she was fluent in, German, Dutch and French, which unlike her son, were enough for her. Her English wasn't quite up to par, she'd had no great reason to practise it - everyone here spoke German.

Looking down at the page she tried to understand the text. She recognised enough of the first paragraph with a little struggle, understanding her son's name, her name, and ... was this a marriage announcement? Confused and flustered, she beckoned her colleague into her office and shut the door before asking the woman to read it to her, in a tongue she could understand clearly. Two minutes later, her stout colleague left the office, and Camille Storm was drawing her cloak around herself, announcing an early lunch, and then a visit to a client, lying through her teeth. She only hoped Wolfgang had been suitably distracted today and his assistants over in investments had been too scared to put the paper under his nose.

--

The congratulations were coming thick and fast during the day, the words 'didn't know you had it in you, well done!' from some of his better colleagues, and others just stared and whispered. 'But she's a werewolf, eugh!'

Come mid afternoon, he got back to his desk to find a sea of memos, one which smacked him clean between the eyes. He unfolded it and noticed it was from the front desk downstairs telling him to pick up a parcel. That was irritating, normally parcels found their way upstairs, but he suspected correctly that the witch on the front desk was rather hoping to gossip.

The package was more of a small crate, and there were enough curious glances at the front desk of the Ministry where they weighed wands. The note attached with string to the front had it addressed to Johann, and apparently contained a set of steaks thinking of you two. The handwriting wasn't familiar. Giving a sigh, he realised he'd have to lump it back to his desk until he could leave, and drew his wand.

"Johann!" His head snapped round immediately on recognising the voice.

His mother was in the queue to have her wand weighed.

---

"You hate using the floo."
"Makes me feel sick, I'm still not feeling right."
"You didn't have to."
"My son has got engaged."

Johann stopped, turning back to look at his mother, the crate under one arm, as yet unopened. They were conversing in German out of habit, and ease, his mother's English was not anywhere near as good as his father's. He reached back and touched her arm, his expression apologetic.

"Just down here." Johann explained, nodding in the direction of Hannah's front door. "Let me talk with her, we'll have to use English." His mother nodded, waited behind him as he knocked on Hannah's door, folding her hands into her long black cloak and wondering what the woman behind the door would look like. Hopefully she'd be pretty, Camille knew she was a healer, but a werewolf. He hand closed around a small item in her cloak pocket.

On the journey to her future daughter in law's place of residence, she'd felt rather exposed as Muggles stared at her. Johann wasn't wearing a cloak, but a long coat, and a suit. The Muggles weren't looking twice at him.

"Hannah." Johann greeted the woman behind the door. With regret it looked like she'd just woken up, and this undoubtedly put her in a bit of a bad mood with him already. "I apologise for turning up your doorstep... again, but we have a problem." His mother was silent behind him, but had obviously been spotted. Still balancing the crate under his arm, charmed a little lighter, thankfully, he pressed a copy of the Daily Prophet into his friend's hands, folded over to the article, and fixed her with a level, but rather urgent stare.

"This is my mother, Camille," He explained, and then stepped aside, changing languages, "Mother, this is Hannah, she works the nightshift, we may need to give her a moment."
"Sorry, have we woken you?" Camille replied, and Johann swiftly translated for Hannah, turning back to look at her from the doorstep
"She's apologising for waking you, my mother's English isn't all that. I'll make tea, I know where you keep it."

1.	Daily Prophet Article

Hannah’s eyes sleepily moved from Johann to the woman behind him. She would certainly have attracted the attention of the muggle residents in the building. As Johann introduced her, Hannah’s gaze flitted between the two once more, her lips pursing. Since when did she agree to meet his mother? If she was anything like his father she wished she hadn’t left her wand under the pillow in her bedroom. But with the present situation with a public hating her, it was probably best never to leave it under her pillow. Tiredness sometimes didn’t register such things.

After a final wary glance at Johann’s mother, Hannah read the headline before her. Her eyes suddenly swelled to rival the size of galleons and she took a large intake of breath. This could not be happening. Surely…

"She's apologising for waking you, my mother's English isn't all that. I'll make tea, I know where you keep it." Johann explained his mother’s foreign words. Hannah frowned, she wasn’t sure what was worse; having been woken up, the newspaper article, or having Wolfgang Storm’s wife on her doorstep.

So she eyed the witch suspiciously while speaking quietly to Johann.
“If your mother is anything like your father, I never speaking to you again will be a very insignificant problem on a gargantuan list.” Her voice was cold, the regular Hannah Bombay. Before she stepped back from the door. “Come in.”

As the couple started to enter the appartment, Hannah became very aware of her attire. As if the scruffy hair and eye mask were not enough, the olive coloured jumper certainly appeared to have seen better days and her pyjama shorts were suddenly feeling incredibly short.
“Please explain to your mother that I wasn’t anticipating company…”

“If your mother is anything like your father, I never speaking to you again will be a very insignificant problem on a gargantuan list. Come in.”

Johann decided not to reply, but gestured to his mother to follow. They passed Hannah in the hallway, Johann gesturing to Camille to go and sit in Hannah's sitting room. His mother was stepping carefully across the carpet, eyes exploring the space, unfamiliar with the concept of living in such a small space perhaps.

“Please explain to your mother that I wasn’t anticipating company…”

"I have." Johann replied simply, turning back from seeing his mother past them. "I'll put the kettle on," he glanced at her attire, not meaning anything by it, but perhaps suggesting accidentally. He turned and headed into Hannah's kitchen, putting the crate down on a flat surface.

"Someone left this for me at the Ministry, present for us. Will deal with it later." Johann explained. Still wearing his coat, he swiftly located all the necessary items for three cups of tea, remembering where Hannah kept her teaspoons.

"This is the first time my mother's made the trip over here, and no, she's nothing like my father. Nor is he aware she's here." Johann explained in a hushed voice. "Am I like my father?" His usual lengthy patience had taken a bit of a pounding today.

"Last time I saw her, she was in tears a few days before New Year, my father and I were arguing over you, but she didn't know about what happened on Christmas day until someone brought her the paper." He gave a frustrated sigh, "I went back for a funeral."

Turning back to the kettle he attended to three mugs of tea. The way he'd spoken about the argument unintentionally compounding any worries that Johann had proposed to Hannah fully aware of what he was doing, that it was premeditated.

Johann seemed terse. Hannah wasn’t used to such a tone coming from him. Usually it was her occasionally biting comments at him. Instead today he was the one questioning her. After he’d just woke her up and brought his mother into her small, immaculate home. She decided to ignore his tone and instead read the article he’d given her in more detail, following him into the tiny kitchen of the tiny flat.

The kitchen itself still showed fire damage. In fact, most of the apartment did. Some of the walls still remained stained with black, the carpets looking lifeless and the furniture still baring some burn marks. Hannah had tried to clean up as much as possible after the incident but she couldn’t afford new furniture, flooring or wallpaper. Not with a huge fine still being paid off in instalments and lawyers’ fees. She would simply have to do with the horrible mess left behind from a hate crime Law Enforcement had no interest in investigating.

“Yonyarn begged for Freddie's permission to wed little Anna….I actually hate my mother.” She muttered to herself.

"Last time I saw her, she was in tears a few days before New Year, my father and I were arguing over you, but she didn't know about what happened on Christmas day until someone brought her the paper." Was he blaming her? Hannah’s gaze shot up, her tired eyes suddenly becoming alert.

“How in Merlin’s name did your mother get hold of the prophet? And why do we make the headlines? We’re not even getting married.” Now the witch was awakening. “If you hadn’t been such a… idiot. I told you plainly not to listen to my mother. She’s a demented old witch with too much time on her hands and a penchant for gossip.”

“How in Merlin’s name did your mother get hold of the prophet?" Hannah asked, seeming to be back on the ball as Johann finished the tea. He frowned, and then realised how little he'd ever spoken of his parents to Hannah, as she had to him about hers.

"And why do we make the headlines? We’re not even getting married. If you hadn’t been such a… idiot. I told you plainly not to listen to my mother. She’s a demented old witch with too much time on her hands and a penchant for gossip.”

Johann bristled ever so slightly, mouth twitching, and a hint of his father's mannerisms showing through for the briefest of moments.

"Don't call me an idiot." He snipped. "Here." He extended her mug of tea towards her, holding the rim between the ends of his fingertips as it was hot. He turned back to pick up the other two and passed her, returning through the kitchen doorway and through into the living room.

"Are you quite alright?" His mother asked quietly, seeing her son's face as he made his way round the furniture and handed her the mug of tea. She'd taken her cloak off, and Johann recognised the familiar formal attire of the bank beneath. It had been a while since he'd seen her dressed like that, other than the funeral, which hadn't been as corporate. She automatically reached for the other cup of tea to let her son take off his own coat. A moment later, Johann sank into the space beside her, accepting the cup back and trying not to think too much about how his mother had undoubtedly been staring around the living room, with is fire damage.

"We're good." Johann lied softly in response, taking a sip of the tea, attempting to calm down. Camille reached for her son's hand and then looked round to see Hannah, at a loss of how to talk to her potential daughter in law, looking particularly thoughtful a moment before attempting in broken English.

"Hannah, thank you." The statement took Johann by surprise. "You will be Johann's wife?"

"Not, not quite yet." Johann replied swiftly, his long fingers intwined in his mother's, who sat between him and Hannah, repeating the sentiment for his mother's benefit.

"Even if your parents seem to think so." He added, looking to Hannah, "You could have told me you were keen. I haven't even brought you a ring." His mother leaned forward ever so slightly, understanding a couple of words.
"A ring?" She asked, letting go of Johann's hand and fumbling in her cloak, draped nearby.

“I’m not keen!” Hannah practically gasped in shock. Was he actually being serious? Did this wizard honestly think that his friend wanted to drag him up the aisle in a matter of weeks and claim him as her own? When he couldn’t even alphabetise his book collection and clean his toenail clippings from the bath! She didn’t want to marry him. She hadn’t even been able to deal with him staying in her apartment for more than a week. Johann was acceptable in small doses.
Not as a husband that she would have to see every day and every night.
That she would have to live with.
That she would have to kiss.

Hannah really wasn’t sure what to say, how to act. As far as she was concerned, this should now have occurred. No one should have known about this outside of her own parents. She had no romantic feelings towards Johann Storm. She had no romantic feelings towards anyone. Hannah wasn’t even sure she knew what a romantic feeling was. Perhaps it was similar to the longing urge for a good raw steak. She understood that feeling…

“And no I don’t want a ring!” She glanced at Camille who had repeated the word. “No….no ring.” The response was quiet, calmer before Hannah finally sat down in the arm chair, stiff and awkward. “What I need is for the paper to stop broadcasting my private life. This farce wasn’t supposed to get past…” Another glance was cast in Mrs Storm’s direction.

“Do you speak English? Spreken zi... Ingleesh?”

"But you-.

"Some!"

His mother suddenly interjected, flustered at Hannah's brash question. She was doing her best to appease her future daughter-in-law.

"I am not as good as he is." Camille looked round and appealed to Johann for help in German, colour in her pale cheeks, and a free hand pushing her dark hair back behind her ear to keep it out of the way.

"Translate for me, darling, I am finding it hard to keep up with her." Johann nodded, and let his mother speak in the language she could easily use without frustration. She began, looking to her son as she spoke, pausing a moment between sentences to let him explain what she'd just said to his lover, gradually feeling confident enough to turn to look at Hannah and continue.

Beside her, Johann cleared his throat and listened carefully, doing his best to translate accurately the sentiment and language that she used, willing Hannah to stay calm and listen, just for a moment.

"My mother would like to apologise for arriving like this, but she was rather surprised to read about us in the newspaper. A colleague brought the paper to her, and explained what the article said, so she decided she had to come as soon as she could before my father stopped her." He paused, laying a hand gently on his mother's wrist, looking to Hannah, "To answer your question in the kitchen, both my parents work for the equivalent of Gringotts, they get international papers there, even if she doesn't read the Prophet, others do, and saw the names." Looking back to his mother he apologised and let her continue.

"Obviously my father's going to be quite upset, its not a secret he is against me associating with a werewolf, but she'd like to assure you that she doesn't share her husband's views on this. From what she has read in my..." Johann paused and raised both eyebrows, his mother gesturing for him to go on, "... read in my letters that mention you, she believes you are someone who must care about me. Also its clear from my letters that I am very fond of you..."

Johann shook his head, surprised at the fact his mother could make such assumptions. Camille frowned and looked to Hannah, delivering her final line which Johann echoed in translation behind her.

"You're a good woman for loving me."

Behind his mother, Johann gave a shrug and gesture of confusion to Hannah. He took a swig of tea, thirsty, promptly spitting it back out as his mother produced a ring box, explaining.

Johann interjected in German a moment, surprised at his mother's action. His mother, patient as she could, placed the little red box in her son's hand and wrapped his fingertips around it before thumbing towards Hannah. But she didn't want to rush it? Hannah had just said, and that included the ring? This was rather bold of his mother, but Camille knew that if she didn't fully support any chance of a daughter in law with her son, she would never have any grandchildren, and by giving Johann the ring for Hannah, it showed her support for them both. She was proud of her son for staying with Hannah despite her turning, Camille was ever the romantic. 

"Not sure how to quite explain this," Johann's voice wavered, "now you've said you don't want a ring, whereas on Christmas day you did." He got up from beside his mother and crossed over towards Hannah, not getting down on one knee this time, but sitting cross-legged before her armchair, on the floor.

"This was my late grandmother, on my mother's side. Her engagement ring. My mother would like to offer it to us, as your engagement ring." He turned the opened box towards his friend, shoulders drooping a little, anticipating Hannah's immediate refusal.

Some. So Hannah had to watch what she was saying. Knowing her luck in most situations at present, the words she didn’t want Johann’s foreign mother to understand would be the ones she comprehended perfectly. Hannah’s lips pursed at the thought. She wasn’t awake enough to be dealing with this. She wasn’t dressed properly to be meeting Johann’s other, kinder parent. This certainly was not the impression she liked to give to anyone, least of all a stranger.

And then the conversation turned into German again and the healer sighed. She may have been highly intelligent and smart but she had never possessed a skill in languuages other than her own. She’d never needed it until now when she had to rely on grumpy Johann’s interpretation skills.

"... read in my letters that mention you, she believes you are someone who must care about me. Also its clear from my letters that I am very fond of you..."

A set of perfectly plucked eyebrows rose, hiding behind her bushy hair.

"You're a good woman for loving me."

It got better. Hannah had been mid sip of her tea when the words had come out. She practically choked on the warm liquid. Yet she decided not to comment. Instead she lifted the mug to her lips once more and took another sip of her favourite green tea. But she stopped enjoying the feel of the warm liquid slipping down her throat when Johann’s mother removed something from her pocket and he spat his tea out. Hannah couldn’t quite see what was being passed between the two, words hushed in German. This foreign language stuff was just plain ridiculous!

Before the healer knew it, her fiancé was stood and coming close to her where her sat before her on the floor, holding a small box. Her explained yet the words didn’t quite sink in until the box was opened.

Now Hannah wasn’t a regular witch. She didn’t do romance and she rarely did friendships. Especially with other witches. But she still liked nice clothes, beautiful expensive shoes and gorgeous jewellery. Particularly the ring now the focus of her gaze.

“I…” She was suddenly somewhat flustered. “I can’t accept that. Johann get up. What are you doing? Just…explain to your mother I can’t accept that. It’s lovely, beautiful but no.”

"I can't accept that. Johann get up. What are you doing? Just… explain to your mother I can't accept that. It's lovely, beautiful but no."

There was the familiar Hannah, saying no. Perhaps it was too much for her, Johann reasoned. He'd perhaps joked too readily about a boulder when he'd been trying to understand her reference to a rock on Christmas Day. He'd done a little reading, in between times, a few copies of Witch Weekly, which discussed marriage in passing, but normally speculative.

Engagement rings were meant to be pretty, weren't they? His own mother wore her rings, but they were passed down from the Storm family rather than the Duerrs. Johann had a memory of sitting at a family wedding as a child, holding his mother's hand while the ceremony went on, staring at the two rings on her long, slender finger, as he sat between his mother and father. He had been four or five at the most, dressed in a simple black robe which itched. The sun had shone brightly, or that could be his memories glossing over the grey, but he remembered being very warm.

I give you this ring as a sign of the marriage which has been promised between us, provided your father gives with you a marriage portion… Yes, there had been some sort of agreement back then still lingering in the pure families about dowries. All in all, Johann's experience of how marriage worked was warped, with his and Hannah's lack of comprehension over the common interpretation of 'love' and the emotional changes that went with it, the situation was already further than it should have been.

"Like you." Camille had understood enough of what Hannah had said to get the gist. Johann looked up from where he was sat on the floor facing Hannah, to where his mother sat behind him. She was looking in earnest at Hannah. "You take it, think." She flailed a hand, frustrated at her lack of clarity.

"I know its a shock, but please, it would mean a lot to me if you would wear it as your engagement ring." Camille switched, looking to Johann to speak for her, now sitting forward on her seat, the cup of tea in her hand, steaming. There was a slight smudge of soot on her wrist where she'd gone to check the time on her wristwatch after getting out of the floo. The wizard, his head just above the height of their knees, turned back from looking over his left shoulder, facing Hannah, who was still holding the box. He gave a half smile, his eyes not meeting Hannah's but looking at the red lid, watching the patterns of light refracting from the piece inside.

"It would mean a lot to her if you took it as your engagement ring, she knows its a shock. She'd like you to think about it, keep it for now." He ruffled his hair, looking awkward, "Please?"

"Get her to try it on." His mother suggested, and son breathed out audibly at the suggestion, a lot calmer than he had been when he'd spoken to his wife-to-be in the kitchen. Getting away from everyone at the Ministry and the gossiping, and being sat close to his mother had ebbed away it all. Strange how the scent of her perfume, although barely there through all the travelling today, still made him think of the times she read him bedtime stories and kissed him goodnight. He'd had less trouble sleeping when she did.

Carefully taking the box back, Johann's fingertips cautiously prised it from the security of the padding, his black curls falling forward a bit as he frowned ever so slightly, being careful not to fumble. The ring was soon free, it felt like it had been charmed to stay put. Johann put the box down beside him on the floor, and proceeded to slip it slightly onto his own fingertip, which caused confusion in the other two, but after a second he nodded to himself.

As if the last little action had been nothing, Johann gestured to take Hannah's hand with his left, deciding that just reaching for it this time would be impolite. (He'd learned that since Christmas!) The engagement ring was in his right, held between thumb and forefinger.

"No harm in trying it on, its not been charmed, it will come back off." He explained, revealing what he'd been up to, putting it on his own fingertip. "You did say it was beautiful."

"Like you." Camille responded in English and Hannah made an uncomfortable noise. She knew she wasn’t ugly and unattractive physically but she wasn’t used to random witches comparing her to a ring. It was uneasy and she didn’t know how to respond. But then the witch told her to take it. Well she simply couldn’t. Hannah wasn’t even sure what this was between her and Johann. Or how it was really come to happen. One minute he was her friend accompanying her to Christmas lunch with the unpleasant parents and now he was her fiancée sat on the floor before her trying to give her his grandmother’s engagement ring. This was too surreal.

Hannah found herself staring at Johann as he struggled to free the ring from the box. It was a family heirloom yet Hannah wasn’t planning on becoming a part of her family…Johann wasn’t honestly being serious about all this was he? She felt wrong accepting such a gift. They’d need to come up with a story soon. A break up. That was what couples did wasn’t it? Johann very nearly placed the ring on his own finger and Hannah glanced up to his mother, questioningly. Was this a weird German custom? The man brought a ring for the woman to look at on his finger?

"No harm in trying it on, its not been charmed, it will come back off." That explained it. Somewhat.

“Oh…it is.” A nervous smile graced Bombay’s lips, tugging at the corners. She finally nodded and offered a cold hand to Johann.  Once it was slipped onto her finger, the witch admired it. It truly was a beautiful piece of jewellery. She could wear it for a few days…

“Thank yo-” She stopped, thinking for a moment. “Danke.” That was German wasn’t it? After a glance to Johann for confirmation she looked back to Camille, drawing off any random German language she had heard. “Das ist sehr…nice of…du.” Evidently the healer was no linguist.

"Heh, there's hope for you yet." Johann remarked, amused. His mother was beaming as Hannah admired the ring, and clasped her hands together.

"Prettier than these, hmm?" She managed in English to Hannah, showing of her own, rather more understated rings which in almost forty years of marriage had perhaps seen better days, despite the cleaning charms. "Better Duerr than Storm." She assured Hannah, pointing to the ring now on her future daughter-in-law's hand.

Even Johann found himself admiring it generally, and it didn't look ungainly on Hannah's hand. Pleased generally with the way Hannah was looking at it (not throwing it at him, or growling or… anything else like that) and his mother's reaction, he scooped up the little box and placed it on the arm of the chair Hannah sat on before collecting his legs beneath him to return to sitting beside his mother and continuing to drink his tea. As he did, he eyed Hannah and the ring suspiciously. Was she happy now? Was that what she meant?

He had been particularly surprised to see his mother had secured the ring for his future wife from his grandmother. Johann had an uncle and an aunt on his mother's side, but he was the eldest of eight grandchildren from the three Duerr siblings. Perhaps it had been promised that way, it had not come up in conversation before, probably because up until now Johann had never had any announcement about a woman in his life - fake engagement or otherwise.

"That will help make up her mind." Camille smiled and explained to Johann who smiled for his mother but didn't look her way. She squeezed his hand again, looking proud.

"How did you know we wouldn't have one?" He asked his mother in English suddenly, and his mother, understanding enough it seemed, just gave him a look and shook her head.
"You are my son." Camille said in English and looked to Hannah, shaking her head again, rolling her eyes as if to say 'as if I knew this would be a normal engagement, coming from him'.

"Thank you." Johann spoke softly, and he leant over to kiss his mother gently on the cheek. She smiled and kissed his forehead, gently putting a hand to the back of his head to keep it steady to do so, rather like she used to when he was younger.

"So when will you marry? Camille's English vocabulary was steadily coming back, though her accent was still difficult to make out.

"No rush." Johann spoke quietly, finding Hannah's eyes across the room. "Right?"

The affection shown between mother and son came somewhat as a surprise to Hannah who knew Johann as a very awkward being with more interest in documents he could translate to affection and love. Yet perhaps he loved his mother. He seemed different around her, especially now that he was less grumpy. Hannah supposed she wouldn’t have taken to being called an idiot particularly well. But that was because she wasn’t. This engagement was evidence that Johann was.

While watching the pair, the witch absentmindedly lifted a hand to brush some hair from her eyes only to find the eyemask still resting upon her forehead. Her lips pursed and she pulled it off. There was no way Hannah was going to spent any longer sat in this room with her friend and his mother wearing her pyjamas and looking as if she’d just woken from a month long slumber.

“Right!” Hannah responded quickly before she took and long gulp from her tea mug and rose to her bare feet, a grand height of barely above 5 foot. “Please excuse me for a moment.” She offered no more explanation and instead left the room silently.

Hannah was gone for about five minutes, leaving her guests alone in the fire damaged living room. But when she returned she was dressed, her hair brushed and a kinder, more inviting expression was warming her features. And as usual, her top had sleeves long enough to cover the unpleasant scar marking her arm. Never again would this witch be able to expose her arm without people staring in disgust at the mesh made of the flesh and skin.

“You’ve come a long way to offer your congratulations Mrs Storm. It quite a… lovely surprise.” Hannah just hoped her husband didn’t decide to do similar. She wasn’t sure he’d get away alive next time.

Hannah left them alone in her living room, perhaps resigning herself to the fact she'd not get rid of the Storms that quickly today. Camille checked the time on her watch, realising the smudge of soot on her wrist and rubbing it off, eyes glancing to where Hannah had disappeared to.

Johann's eyes watched the action, and then trailed around the room, noticing properly how much work there was still to do here. His attempts to help hadn't been very fruitful, his knowledge was more in theory than in magical application, so progress to charm and clean walls had been pretty slow, and the action in itself seemed to irritate Hannah, or perhaps it had been that he was not able to solve it for her. He'd like to be able to. Still, it was perhaps better than going back to the place he shared with Colin. There were more alien items there than here for his mother, and she'd only see what his father had undoubtedly described with rather exaggerated adjectives like squalor, wretched or Merlin forbid, Muggle. Even seeing Sasha's expression on opening the front door a couple of days after Christmas had been telling as to how more traditional upbringings led to an expectation.

In contrast, Johann enjoyed his time at Colin's, had somewhat bonded with Moxie the dog and even learned to cook something half decent. He'd learned incredible amounts about Muggle culture, and their impressions of what magical culture was - having now finished reading The Hobbit. He even relished the morning walk to work through the Muggle estate, but, he didn't doubt the space and the ban on wandwork made life more challenging.

Conversation changed back to German with Hannah in the other room, and they dropped their voices to be polite.
"Well, she seems rather lovely." Camille remarked, finishing the last of her tea, pinching the bridge of her nose after, a sign that she still felt a little unsteady from the floo trip, "She likes your grandmother's ring, thought that might do the trick."
"She is?" Johann asked, no way to hide the way he'd never really contemplated 'beauty' in his friend with great concentration. "I mean, yes, she's a very good friend."
"You love her?"

The mother watched her son's face frown as he contemplated. He needed a haircut, she had thought that back in late December when he'd come for Merik's funeral. Her fingertips extended and she tucked a piece of his hair behind his ear, out of the way. He didn't flinch, but shifted afterwards, folding one leg over the other. 

Camille wasn't as worried as other mothers might be over the pause in his answer, after being confronted with an engagement. It wasn't so long ago she'd more or less resigned herself that Johann probably wasn't ever going to settle down with anyone before she was old and grey, and then, probably not anyone conventional. For Solomon's sake, the family seemed to have some sort of quiet bet on the outcome. It irritated Wolfgang horrifically, even if Camille had found out he'd bet on Johann having an altogether conventional relationship and settling down to provide grandchildren for them both. The Storm family were always so boastful, it could be tiring being in a room with them all.

However, in her eyes, Hannah was pretty, very pretty, even if she had been half dressed on their arrival, and even if her home was somewhat singed. Hopefully the two of them would be able to find somewhere nice to live, together, and furnish it in a more traditional style, with space for him to do his research and work, just like it had been a year or more ago, before he'd got himself into trouble. She'd been so proud of him then.

"I suppose I must." Johann eventually replied, though still looked baffled. How did someone know? He'd asked Ignan, Georg and Tapendra that night he'd been allowed to join them to celebrate Tapendra's birthday. Ignan had said it was 'Natural' and 'Took you by surprise.' but was 'vastly overrated'. Tapendra considered it the best thing in life other than the woman then loving you back, and Georg that they were 'great gifts'. It had never interested him, always been too busy learning, understanding and seeing things. Georg had suggested that when Johann fell in love he'd interpret it as feeling ill. He didn't feel ill. Then again, all of this had started in the time he wasn't taking sleeping potions. He'd started again just before new year, the old voices back… not as many doses, but the habit was back.

"It is complicated, my dear." His mother assured him, as if reading his thoughts and answering the question too. "I suppose you two have been friendly a while, enjoy each other's company, and it just felt like the right thing to do, didn't it?" Camille asked Johann with a shrug. "Fate?"
"I'm not sure I am inclined to follow 'fate'." Johann replied cynically, growing up in a family without seers, who didn't trust them either, but his mind was busy considering things.

Fate would do for her, Camille thought to herself. She leaned away to put down her mug and jumped as she almost moved her foot onto the head of a ginger fluffy ball which was launching itself out from under the drape of her cloak towards her ankle.

For a moment, Johann thought the sudden surprised movement was an indication that Hannah's pet snake, Clifford had appeared, but the snake had perished in the fire. Johann hadn't shared quite the amount of disappointment for that part of the event as he probably should have to be polite. He and Clifford had not seen eye to reptilian eye. Instead, there was a ginger kitten rolling by his mother's feet, launching itself onto her shoe like a piece of prey.

The wizard resigned himself to the fact that he'd never know everything about love or Hannah, and vice-versa. Kittens included.

"Caught me quite by surprise there!" His mother was remarking to the cat, which scampered away and hid behind the armchair Hannah had been sat in. Johann watched its tail twitch, the last bit of it still on show. Its arrival had brought him out of his deep thoughts, probably for the best. They couldn't stay here all afternoon, and his father would find out and do something soon enough, especially if he found out where his wife had gone.

“You’ve come a long way to offer your congratulations Mrs Storm. It quite a… lovely surprise.” Hannah had returned, dressed properly, looking more like her usual self. I love her? Johann's internal voice asked himself, staring up at her, a smile automatically reaching his features as he looked up. Really?

"No…" Camille was struggling for the word in English, and tapped Johann on the arm to get his attention, saying the word in German.
"Issue." Johann replied for her.

"No issue, I am glad to meet you." His mother had got to her feet, opening her arms in a welcoming gesture to embrace or receive her future daughter-in-law. Behind her, still seated, Johann made a face of 'oh dear Merlin, don't try', visible to Hannah.

"Mother, don't smother her." Son tried to interrupt, in English, so Hannah would understand. Taking the opportunity when Camille was stood up, he seized the empty mug from her side.
"More tea? I'll open that box while I'm there." He got to his feet, feeling a bit uncomfortable given the words in Hannah's absence. He wondered what she would have thought had she heard them, perhaps the language difference played to his advantage there. What had Georg said, the best is if she loves you too?

"Yes, please. We need to ... plan ... your father..." His mother's sentence didn't need the gaps filling, but the discussion topic was one Johann wasn't sure how to approach, other than perhaps pleading that Ignan hex a relative into next week on Johann and Hannah's behalf...

Shuffling his feet on the tired carpet, Johann gestured towards Hannah's mug to see if she wanted another too, before adding as he passed her,
"The label on the box suggests steaks."

Johann’s mother tried to commit the unimaginable. She lifted herself up onto her feet and advanced, arms lifting into the dreaded hug position. This brought back horrible memories of Johann attempting the very same thing. Hannah stiffened as the pair of arms wrapped themselves around her, pulling her long hair down and bringing her body close to the taller woman. Why did people insist on such physical displays of attention? Hannah reluctantly lifted her own arm, placing a hand gently on Camille’s back as she had been informed to do during hugs before the unpleasantness finally ceased and the witch retreated.

Hannah took a deep breath. She’d survived another hug.

Meanwhile Johann was also leaping to his feet and Hannah suddenly felt as if she were surrounded by giants remarkably taller than herself, even with the heels upon her feet. But there was someone quite a bit smaller than Hannah who had suddenly gained his owners attention by swiping at the heels and trying to stick his head through the gap.

"More tea? I'll open that box while I'm there."

“Herbert!” Hannah greeted the cat, momentarily ignoring Johann’s offer of another beverage. The healer crouched down, snatching up the little fur ball and gave him a good fuss. Herbert housekitten was definitely a different sort of pet to Clifford the snake but he was cute and affectionate. Hannah hadn’t been able to have another snake as Clifford had originally been a pet of one of the victims upon her table at the ministry.

"Yes, please. We need to ... plan ... your father..."

For the second time in a few minutes Hannah Bombay’s body went stiff. Herbert obviously felt a change and started trying to swipe at his owner’s long hair. She nodded at his gesture to the mug.

“Who sent it?” Without wishing to wait, she then glanced to Camille. “What plans would those be?” He was not coming here.