"Not sure, don't recognise the handwriting." Johann replied, heading for the kitchen with Hannah's mug collected, assuming it was better to make another than not for her.

"To stop him." Camille replied to Hannah's question, in the living room.

"Hah, on your own there." Her son remarked just before he disappeared into the kitchen. "Father's going to cause as much trouble as he feels fit. Best to just keep our heads down."

Camille looked back to Hannah and shook her head.
"Perhaps." She agreed, frowning, and slowly tried to converse with Hannah,
"He will just … put up with it. I will tell him that. You two will be happy." She folded her arms and nodded. Yes, she would talk Wolfgang round, she would have to.
"You ... fit." The phrase 'you suit each other' was a bit beyond her.

In the kitchen, Johann had set about in the same routine as before, only this time without Hannah. He withdrew his wand from his jacket and checked the label again, presuming it was written by the shop staff and ordered by owl perhaps.

A rather routine charm unsealed the lid, and Johann peered inside.

That was not a steak.

"Merlin." He spoke in surprise, and then regretted it.

In the living room, his mother's head automatically tilted towards the kitchen doorway, recognising surprise.

Johann pushed the lid back down on the little crate and stepped away. Despite the time he'd helped Colin with a body once, and the time he'd stared at them in Hannah's presence, he hadn't expected to be sent a dog's head in a crate addressed in celebration of the engagement. The smell! It wasn't even fresh. That wasn't… that couldn't be an affectionate gesture. Who the hell kept something like that?!

He stepped back into the living room, but without the tea, looking a little paler, wand still in his hand. It wasn't so much the content that had disturbed him, but the fact it had been sent to them both. It was a threat.

"What is it?" Camille asked, in German, but the query wasn't hard to interpret. Johann shook his hand, and put his wand hand against the kitchen doorway, the wood of his wand meeting the wall.
"Not steaks." He told them both in English, and swallowed.

Despite Hannah’s apparent lack of a heart, and Camille’s unfortunately weak grasp of the English language, the words were heart-warming. She’d never been told she fitted with anything or anyone before. She’d never felt like she’s fitted since being a small child chopping up mice that the old family cat had brought in from his travels. Other kids were never like her and other adults certainly weren’t. Yet her and Johann gelled, even if only as friends. The words were nice and Hannah, for the first time this afternoon, offered Camille a genuine smile, flashing bright white teeth.

Johann’s expostulation from the kitchen wiped the smile from Hannah’s features, replacing it with a concerned frown. Had Johann been in the top left cupboard? She was about to rush in to check he hadn’t been snooping when the wizard himself appeared, looking somewhat ashen and sick.

"Not steaks."

“The box?” Bombay queried before she quite unceremoniously dropped the cat onto the sofa that had seated Johann and his mother and she pushed past him into the kitchen. Herbert let out a meek meow and moved to the edge of the sofa, peering down nervously.

The crate sat on the work surface, the lid roughly shoved back on. But the stench saturated the air around her. A stench she hadn’t been used to since working in the ministry months ago. It made her stomach twist and part of her wanted to leave the box alone, questioning Johann on the contents.

But Healer Bombay needed to see it herself. So she pulled the lid off with her fingers and stared into the box with horror. She drew in a breath, instantly regretting this as she could taste the stench upon her tongue. Yet she didn’t move or replace the lid.

She continued to stare at the offence staring up at her. Her eyes were alert, water dampening the corners, her face white. This was a threat. Or a promise. And it frightened Hannah.

Hannah went into her kitchen, Johann leaned on the doorway to let her pass beneath his arm, she was short enough.
"Don't-." Johann reached out to stop her, but his fingers didn't reach her arm in time, she'd opened the lid and was staring inside, and the colour drained from her face.

"I think its… was a dog." Johann managed to explain, standing behind her and looking again and blinking hard, trying not to think about it in emotional terms. "Don't keep looking at it, its just-." He reached out to close the lid, his fingertips touching hers for the briefest of moments as she still held the lid.

Behind them, Johann's mother had followed them in, a few inches shorter than her son, but still taller than Hannah, she saw straight into the box and gave a strangled yelp of alarm. The linguist looked round in surprise at the noise, seeing his mother, and Herbert the cat in her arms, who she fumbled, the kitten lacing its claws into his mother's shirt for dear life before she clutched it gently again. She was rather fond of cats, but Wolfgang wasn't, so she'd never kept one while they were married.

"What is that?" She asked in very direct English, a hand going up to cover her nose and mouth, Herbert still in the other, spreading ginger hair on her clothes. Johann forcibly placed the lid back on, drew his wand again, sealing it to try and stop the smell getting any worse.
"Sorry," he muttered to Hannah, for having touched her in doing that.

Johann pulled at the tag which was attached by string and took another look at it.

Thinking of you two

The label was quite plain, the box was for steaks but clearly wasn't, and recycled. He narrowed his blue eyes as the note, showing Hannah and then thrusting it towards his mother, who had backed towards the doorway. There was a flash of recognition in her features, and she suddenly fumbled the ginger kitten towards Johann, and then thought better of it, passing it back to its rightful owner, and leaving the kitchen.

Johann, glad not to have been given the cat, looked to Hannah at this action from his mother, and his face darkened. Rare for him, he swore with venom in his tone, leaving the kitchen. Yes, that would just be right.

"Who wrote it?" He hounded his mother in English, determined Hannah needed to hear this, rather than protecting her from it.
"I'm not sure, I could be wrong." Camille replied in German, sounding equally upset, walking back through the living room, brushing cat hair off her formal jacket and shirt, her long skirt sweeping around her ankles as she headed to the far wall from the kitchen. Johan followed her, stood between his mother and the front of the sofa, staring.
"Its his secretary."

The tall, usually patient wizard growled and whirled round on the spot to face Hannah.
"Unbelievable." He spat, yet not actually explaining what his mother had said. He turned back, quizzing his mother in English again, alluding to Hannah, "He knew before you even got here!"

Camille gestured quizzically, not understanding. Exasperated, Johann repeated it and his mother explained that she had gone back to get the ring, just in case, it had taken her an hour at least, and then she had gone to find a route over. She was still clutching the label, and put a hand to her forehead, feeling faint, and stumbled past Johann to sit down again on Hannah's sofa, placing her head in her hands.

Johann looked back to Hannah, fuming, wand still in one hand, the other a tight fist.
"I'll kill him." He spoke simply, in the heat of the moment, incapable of it, but talking to a woman who was.

Johann’s words failed to register as he suggested she not continue to look. Hannah stared at the dead dog’s head, disgusted and feeling physically sick. It wasn’t the sight of the decapitated, rotting head that disgusted her. This healer had become accustomed to seeing far worse on a daily basis. Holding one’s stomach when encountering the stench of rotting flesh had been a job requirement as the ministry’s only magical examiner. This terrible feeling was, however, caused by the sentiment the ‘gift’ had obviously been delivered with.

Johann pulled the lid from her grasp, his fingertips brushing against hers and she released the wood. Her mind was awash with thoughts, ideas of whom it may be, questions of why someone could be so unpleasant, so malicious.

Hannah barely glanced at the note presented in her direction. She didn’t even see Camille’s facial expression change until the cat let out a noise and she finally turned around, her lips parted, eyes betraying emotions she usually knew how to hide. Mrs Storm looked surprised, but not in the expected way. As she thrust the cat at Hannah, the healer registered an understanding behind the mother’s eyes. She knew who had sent them the gift.

It was the first time Hannah had heard her friend swear. In any language she presumed. He simply wasn’t the type and neither was she. But he looked furious now and Hannah had a feeling she knew who at. She followed the couple out of the kitchen and into the living room where Johann had cornered his mother.

She responded to him in German and Hannah cursed the language difference. Until Johann made it very clear who the donor had been. Hannah was very quickly feeling an anger building in herself. One that had been alien to her until just under a year ago. Now when she became angry, there was a fury burning in her that very nearly became uncontrollable.

"I'll kill him."

Once more the cat was dropped lightly onto the sofa and Hannah drew her own wand from her trouser pocket. She looked enraged.

“Don’t ruin my pleasure.” The healer said to Johann before she advanced on Camille as well. “Where is he? Your husband?”

Oh how her head was spinning. The article, rushing home to find her late mother's ring just in case, and ensure she had some identity other than her wand. A cloak suitable for floo travel - she'd fussed, a moment's procrastination over an impending floo journey - then rushing to the Ministry to use the international fireplaces, staggering into the British Ministry Atrium gasping for breath and trying not to bring up her breakfast.

Now the breakfast was back in her throat, the smell of the rotting head hanging on her senses. How could he, her loving husband, do such a thing to their son and future daughter? She looked down at the writing in her hand. The secretary must not have known what she was labelling, had probably brought the paper to Wolfgang's attention in the first instance too. The ever efficient assistant, she was ten years Camille's younger, and the way Wolfgang spoke to her made Camille a little jealous. When this awful Tetra-Wizard Tournament had been about to start, she frequently got notes in this very handwriting explaining that Wolfgang would be late back to their home.

The couple stood in the room were both angry. Her son's anger reminiscent of the night before new year when he'd run out of the house, vanished into the night, only this time he didn't look to be running. That had been the last time she'd seen him before he'd appeared before her in that busy, cavernous room in the belly of this country's magical government. He'd turned round in surprise at her voice. The box had been there on the desk then. They'd walked to Hannah's home with it under Johann's arm. How dreadful, how sickening. Poor Hannah, poor Johann.

“Don’t ruin my pleasure. Where is he? Your husband?” Her future daughter-in-law's face flashed with anger that took Camille by surprise and she jumped to her feet unsteadily, trying to distance herself from the other witch, alarm on her own features. Hannah's wand was drawn. Camille raised both her hands, her own wand in her jacket, she was unarmed and tried to show she was defenceless.

Johann took a look at the time and added an hour - five here, six back at home.
"What time?"
"Six for him."

He watched his mother close her eyes a moment, both family members thinking the same things, his mother undoubtedly worried about her absence. Her hands were still up in the air towards Hannah.

"He'll have left work." Johann hissed. No telling where his father would have gone, probably somewhere to gloat, or collect his winnings over that horrible family bet before anything else happened. Johann could imagine him laughing cruelly to himself, wishing he could have seen their faces when they opened the box. Did he know his wife was here? Given the hour, that was now a distinct possibility. His father had all kinds of spies in the bank. Perhaps he knew the moment his mother had left. It was enough to make Johann wish he hadn't inherited his father's keen mind.

"Tell her I mean her no harm, but please don't go after him," His mother appealed in German, her expression frantic, her hands lowered but still outstretched in defence.
"Johann… Hannah…" She shook her head, pleading.

"He could be anywhere." Johann told Hannah, stepping up behind her, and lowering his voice, his head just behind hers,
"She's asking you not to go after him. Besides, not sure we could get him before the Wizengamot, whereas they would be overjoyed to see you again, and me by association."

He cautiously laid a hand on Hannah's shoulder lightly, the arm which held her wand beneath, reaffirming that it wasn't going to be in their favour to hunt down the conniving father-in-law-to-be.
"Its not her fault. There's time for revenge, she doesn't need to be party to it."

Madam Storm’s hands shot up in the air, as if fearing an attack from the healer. She obviously didn’t know Hannah Bombay at all. Despite her newly found temper and at time uncontrollable anger, Hannah was still a healer. Healers didn’t injure or attack people. It wasn’t in their nature. Healers did exactly what their job title implied; they healed and treated those needing their help. She wasn’t going to attack Camille Storm. The witch was associated with Wolfgang through her simply incomprehensible love of the man she’d naïvely married. Hannah couldn’t blame her for that. But she could find out where the husband was and give him a shock.

"She's asking you not to go after him. Besides, not sure we could get him before the Wizengamot, whereas they would be overjoyed to see you again, and me by association."

A few red sparks sizzled from the tip of Bombay’s wand. The idea of being put in front of the Wizengamot further fuelled Hannah’s anger. She had zero confidence in the ministry and despised the Wizengamot and their prejudice legal decisions.

The hand landed on her shoulder and Hannah span around to look at the culprit of the physical affront.

“Your father sent us a decapitated rotting dog’s head in a box.” Hannah had dealt with a multitude of different ways people wanted to express their hate. Her own home had been set on fire and her snake murdered, after all. But this, coming from Johann’s own kin, made her feel the most angry.

She shrugged his hand off her shoulder, cast Camille and look and excited the room. In the tiny corridor her robes were hung up, she thrust a hand into the pocket to check on the presence of her healer’s badge as a form of ID and pulled the robes on over her shoulders. Less than a minute later she was back in the living room, marching towards the fireplace.

“So are you going to stay here and act a coward or come with me and inform your father just how inappropriate his gift was?” Whatever Johann did or said Hannah was set on meeting Wolfgang Storm face to face. She had reached the end of her patience when it came to persecution for something she had no control over.

Hannah Bombay got riled, but for both of them today seemed to be a particularly potent catalyst for anger. Johann lifted his hand, glad he had at least deflected the attention from his mother, and let Hannah stalk away.

His mother put a hand to the back of the sofa and another to her forehead, a ghastly pale colour.
"I can't believe your father." She uttered, switching languages, and wiping what looked like a tear from the corner of her eye.

Johann caught his bottom lip between his teeth and watched her thoughtfully, not offering any comfort, his anger towards his father fringing on his mother for getting involved, for not going and pacifying Wolfgang.

"Its one of his better reactions." Johann agreed. Camille shook her head.
"Not to you, not to Hannah, you don't deserve that."
"Its just what he does." Johann retorted, just not to his family, but there'd been a genuine shift in the father-son relationship in the past twelve months.

“So are you going to stay here and act a coward or come with me and inform your father just how inappropriate his gift was?”

Hannah was in her cloak. Johann audibly swallowed. She was going to tackle his father whether or not they asked her not to.

"Of course darling." He replied, voice not quite like his own. "I'll get the box."

His mother looked alarmed. Perhaps he did love this slight healer in her robes all determined and fiery. She watched her son pull his coat around his shoulders and stalk back into the kitchen, unable to meet her eyes.

"You are going with me?" She asked Hannah, a mix of shock and also relief not to be going alone in the floo to meet her angry husband. Reinforcements, well, she'd hoped Johann might at least see her to the door, but he wasn't the bravest.

"Of course we are." Johann replied for them, voice denying his trust and shaking ever so slightly. He had the box, resealed, under his arm again, and his wand in his other hand, tucking it away. He was still pale and had felt better, only hoping that when he finally reached his bed tonight (or a bed, he wasn't going to be picky) he could forget it all and sleep, but it didn't seem likely.

"I can see there's no way to talk you out of this." He uttered to Hannah, coming up behind her to approach the fireplace. Was this what lovers did? Camille hurriedly scooped up her own cloak and drew it around herself, questioning her own actions that day already, and about to throw oil into the flames now.

His mother's hand found Johann's wand hand, now free of a wand.
"You'll need to go via the Ministry." Johann explained, still sounding less direct than he had been. "Then we'll go out from there… I'll lead, let her go after, she doesn't travel well in the floo." Letting go of his mother's hand, he reached for the floo powder, hoping to Merlin he would be doing this reverse trip very soon.



End