Nails ripped into flesh, drawing blood and allowing it to gush down the face of the victim. His eyes grew wide, scared, shocked. He fought against her, hands coming up to his throat, trying to pull the clawed paws from his throat. Paws…
She looked down. Pale arms, one once scarred and ugly were now covered in fur, dark coarse fur leading to sharp merciless claws. She was changed. But conscious. She knew what she was doing. She had become the wolf, the wolf had become her.

A howl of fear was let out.

She woke up screaming, hot, her clothes sticking to sweaty skin. Hands shot up to check for fur. Or they would if they could move. If she could sit up. There was something draped over her. A heavy arm.

Hannah’s gaze followed the arm to its origin.

Johann Storm lay face down on her bed, fully clothed bar his coat, looking very much out of it. Hannah’s lips pursed. She knew that sort of sleep. And there is was on the bedside table beside him, the sleeping potion that would one day kill him. Yet she didn’t want to lecture him on it that moment. He had probably needed it. As the memories of the evening before flooded back into her mind, Hannah quickly realised what she’d done. She felt sick. This mess, this lie had spiralled out of control and now Hannah had very possibly lost Johann both of his parents. And why would he want to speak to her after that humiliating display?

“Johann!” The witch hissed at him. Last night she may not have killed him for such physical contact but Hannah was once more in her regular state of mind. She’d needed him there last night before falling asleep, a broken witch realising how alone and isolated she was. But now she was awake, it was a new day and Johann’s arm was just plain heavy and uncomfortable.

“Wake up damn you!”

Hannah's waking, screaming from her dream did not rouse Johann from his potion-induced stupor, but it did put a dent in the murky black darkness.

Once the blood had been washed away from her hands, and he had begun to stop shaking, all of it in relative silence, sleep had rather taken over. Despite the few hours Hannah had been awake, with Johann and Camille interrupting her slumber late afternoon the day before, the two of them were exhausted from it all, and Johann wasn't keen - despite the ferocity of the exchange in Germany - to leave Hannah alone. He wasn't sure if she'd be left alone or if his mother would be able to intervene for now. Perhaps that bridge was also burned.

Prepared to curl on the sofa, even tolerate Herbert sleeping on his head, Johann had been slightly surprised when Hannah had asked him to enter her room and stay by her side for a while until she slept. He was awful at looking after people when they were sick or upset, so after regarding her with wide eyes, had agreed, and taken an awkward pew on the other side of the bed.

She'd drifted off, Johann had sat in silence, cross-legged. His coat hung in the hall, the worst of the blood smeared from Hannah's hands was gone from the sleeves. His suit jacket was creased, looking lived in, and hung over the back of the sofa in the living room. His shirt had seen better days, the fireplace soot, dust from the scuffle, London in general had left its mark. His once shiny shoes were now duller leather, a scrape along one side received in the scuffle.

He'd watched her fall asleep with mild fascination. Although exhausted physically from the rushing about and the fighting, his mind was content to rattle on. Hopping up lightly he retrieved the end of one of the blue bottles he'd stolen from the St Mungo's apothecary. He had rediscovered it after new year, where he'd already slipped - seeking out a more conventional brew in Knockturn on the 30th when he'd got back to London with Ignan. It had done enough that night.

Unstoppering the bottle in the hallway, he'd stopped in her doorway, contemplating the sofa. If she woke, would she want him there again? She could always throw him out.

He'd returned, sitting back down on the bed as lightly as he could so as not to wake her. Unstoppering the bottle, he'd let the familiar, harsh taste drop down his throat, but dropped the stopper. He put the blue bottle down on the bedside table for a moment to reach for the plug, but he never quite found it before he was overcome.

Face first in Hannah's pillow, Johann very slowly became aware of where he was, and how much he ached. At some point in the night he'd thrown an arm across the bed, possibly dreaming about having to hold Hannah back from attacking someone, he wasn't sure, he didn't generally remember dreaming when under the influence.

“Wake up damn you!”

Johann lifted his head in a daze, blinking hard and turning his head towards Hannah's voice, his blue eyes gradually focusing on her after being face first into the pillow for several hours.

"What, what is it?" He mumbled, and then frowned, confused, not sure how he ended up asleep, everything was a bit blurred.

Then with a horrible smash of realisation, everything flooded back in his mind's eye. The paper, his mother, the crate, the ring, his father, the blood...

"Oh Merlin." Johann moaned, and shoved his face back in the pillow, feeling too fatigued to move right then.

A beat later he pulled his arm off Hannah, and his hands found their way to the back of his head, over his tangled black hair. He needed a good wash, new clothes, and probably something to eat, but his stomach was none to pleased about the undiluted potion he had promised he wouldn't take again.

Curse it! Johann's scrambled head was throwing everything together, and he suddenly remembered the sleeping potion, and unsteadily flailed a hand out in the other direction to Hannah to find it. Unstoppered, but an empty bottle, and knocked it clean off, landing somewhere near his shoes.

"What day is it?"

Hananah was confused. She hadn’t given Johann her permission to sleep in her room. That was just plain inappropriate. And yet here he was, obviously having taken the sleeping potion while sat with her and he’d passed out before making it to the sofa. Or was this him getting a bit confused about their relationship now that they were engaged? Maybe she should say something to him later? But she couldn’t bear that idea. After all, she’d made a mess of it all yesterday, how could she disappoint him anymore?

Perhaps Hannah Bombay was growing a heart?

The wizard finally removed his arm and Hannah sat herself up without a moment’s time wasted. The clothes from the day before were still being worn bar her shoes. And now her hair was a matted mess. Apparently sleep hadn’t been particularly sound and uneventful.

A quiet whine came from the end of the bed and Hannah saw Herbert climbing over the large duvet and up onto Johann’s body. She let him, leaving the wizard to lay head first in the pillow, wallowing in a sleeping potion induced mess.

“Wednesday.” Hannah muttered, brushing some hair back from her face and watching Herbert readying himself to pounce on Johann’s curls in the dusk. “I think.” His front legs bent, bum in the air, wiggling before he pounced, attacking his prey and getting a claw stuck in a matted curl.

Wednesday.

Johann's mind thought about what that day meant to him. Tuesday had been so very busy, even without the events of the evening. All the meetings, and he was due to write them up, send copies, catch up on half a dozen requests from other Departments for translation, and there was that Department of Mysteries request for a hand with some papers recovered, Merlin, too much.

He'd stay here, with his head face first in Hannah's pillow and pretend the world didn't exist. It would be simpler. Her form had left the other side of the bed, and he could hear her moving about. Herbert cried and his aching back felt tiny paws upon it, which were both slightly tickle-worthy and painful as he put his claws through Johann's shirt to grip better.

From in the pillow, Johann's face screwed up with irritation, lying still and hoping the cat would go away, but it pounced on his head, and he could feel it waggling its leg, tugging at his hair, those tiny claws caught.

"Aaaargh!" Johann exclaimed, muffled at first until he lifted his head again and his hands tentatively found the kitten, his hair and the tangle, blindly trying to prise them both apart. He was successful a few seconds later but Herbert's claws sank into Johann's thumb in the process, quite by accident in the cat's urgency to get loose.

Rolling his shoulders to try and dislodge the cat, Johann misjudged the end of the bed and landed on the floor beside it with a bump, backside first, and came eye to eye with the ginger mischief in the dim light of the winter's morning.
"You make a good alarm clock." The German grumbled at the feline, sucking the side of his thumb where pinpricks of blood were forming. He pulled his shoes out from beneath him, and found the bottle and the stopper soon after.

"Wednesday." Johann repeated Hannah's information, sliding his fingers into the back of his shoes to pick them up,  getting unsteadily to his feet, other hand going to his head as it pained him. One side of his shirt was untucked and there were shadows beneath his eyes. Hannah hadn't gone to work last night, and now he felt entirely unprepared for another ferocious day of questions about the engagement, werewolf whispers and stacks of work and responsibility.

He stared at Hannah across the room, considering skipping the country, just getting out of there, but the witch opposite him was anchoring him, without him being too sure why.

Then finally the realisation of where he was came to mind.
"Ah. Sofa. Yes... well..." he tried to form a sentence to explain, "I wasn't sure if you would wake up - I wasn't sure what you wanted me to..." Johann's face showed that it was futile to explain, they'd woken up in the same bed, he was surprised Hannah hadn't thrown him out the front door already.

"I'll go..." His shoulders drooped, mirroring his voice, feeling he'd outstayed his welcome, and the rather alien environment of being in a woman's bedroom was making him feel even further out of his depth than before. Despite his friend's equally dishevelled appearance, Johann's eyes picked out a key change, surprised,
"..oh.. you're still wearing the ring."

“Careful!” Hannah started, watching Johann groping for the kitten. Her adorable little fluff ball. A little creature that didn’t judge her quite like the rest of the world did. And her only friend was manhandling him! “Don’t hurt him, Johann!” A little rich coming from the witch who had clawed at a man’s face only yesterday. Upon this realisation she frowned and reached across the bed to grab the cat just as Johann and Herbert took a tumble to the floor.

Johann fumbled down there for a bit before he clumsily got to his feet, his friend simply watching the whole time. She really wasn’t sure what to say. She’d made a big mistake the day before. That hadn’t been Hannah as she knew herself launching at Wolfgang Storm. That had been the monster within her. Surely Johann knew that. Hopefully.

"Ah. Sofa. Yes... well..."

In discomfort, Hannah crossed her arms over her chest, watching Johann through wary eyes. He’d just realised what he’d done and she didn’t need to press the fact any further. But no-one was to know he’d stayed there with her, in her room. What would people say about them in addition to all the cruel things already being done and said? Hannah didn’t want to even consider it.

"..oh.. you're still wearing the ring."

Hannah’s hand subconsciously went to her left, a finger tracing the ring and she glanced down at it. Of course he didn’t want her wearing it. Not after what she’d done to his father. She was surprised he was even still here, asking for it nicely.

“Oh, yes. Sorry.” She muttered quietly, beginning to pull it off her finger. “I’ll owl the prophet today, tell them it was a stupid mistake, an over eager mother getting the wrong idea. Then I’ll owl your parents. Tell them I’ll stay away from you.”  The ring slid off her finger and she tossed it across the bed at Johann, refusing to look at him.

“Oh, yes. Sorry. I’ll owl the prophet today, tell them it was a stupid mistake, an over eager mother getting the wrong idea. Then I’ll owl your parents. Tell them I’ll stay away from you.”

He saw her toss it across the bed towards him, the cat's keen eyes followed the glint of the stones as it tumbled towards the bedcovers. His surprise was clear as she did it, and one hand went out as if to stop her, left hanging in mid-air as it landed nearby.

His long, pale fingers scooped it up and he put down his pair of shoes, turning back to look at Hannah who was avoiding looking at him.

"I hadn't..." He struggled for the words a moment, stopping and thinking. "No, listen, you don't have to do that." His voice was soft, and his feet slowly moved across the floor in his socks towards her.
"Its not like I'll be seeing them any time soon." He exhaled with a sigh, "Not sure I can forgive my father for things, and its not just yesterday, either."

He looked at the ring between his fingers, turning it and examining the craftsmanship.
"You know a few months ago, before he found out about what happened to you, he was telling me I was an idiot for not asking you. You were more angry at me for letting him believe we were then, when I wrote to warn you he'd made an assumption."

Inhaling he looked up to Hannah,
"We never used to argue, me and him, until you." An unintended guilt trip, he shook his head, thinking about the arguments the past few months.

"No, you keep it. You deserve it." Johann reached for Hannah's hand, to place his grandmother's ring back in her palm.

Johann’s words were kind, him sounding supportive for probably the first time in his life. He wasn’t being awkward or the wizard Hannah thought she knew. He was trying to make her feel better. Until he basically told her that she was the reason for all of the arguments between himself and Wolfgang. Then he became the Johann she knew once more. That comment certainly wasn’t helpful.

The witch’s lips pursed as she did look up at him through a mess of hair. She needed a bath, to clean the blood from beneath her nails, the wash away the sins from the day before, the grime and sweat from attacking someone in her natural, human form like a monster.

“I deserve it?” The witch’s eyebrows rose as she studied him. “I almost scratched your father eyes out last night, Johann. I launched myself at him like the vicious beast people say I am and I apparently deserve your grandmother’s ring? Your father’s probably scarred because of me and your mother won’t come near us for a very long time. ” She didn’t give him her hand, instead lifted it to tuck song long hair behind her ear.

“Are you…right in the head?”

“Are you…right in the head?”

Johann gave a mildly amused snort.
"Probably not, but you could give a better diagnosis, healer Bombay." He pressed his lips into a straight line and curled his hand around the ring again, her hand had been pulled away, she didn't want it back.

"I'm trying hard not to think about last night. If I'm honest." He confessed. "You scared the hell out of me, and my parents," Johann gave a sniff and self-consciously rubbed at the end of his nose, "but I can't say he didn't have it coming, and you were braver than I was."

There was another awkward pause, and Johann turned away, finding his shoes and this time placing his feet into them.
"Write to the Prophet if you have to, I ..." he was crouching to do up his shoelaces, "... I..." the words were stuck in his throat. "I just thought it would be the right thing to do, you know, asking you. I thought you felt the same way." A blush was rising to his cheeks.

"Things will get better, but I can't see them doing it if you write to the Prophet. They'll only twist your words, you didn't hear what people were saying, how they were reacting to me in the Ministry." He finished tying the laces on his other foot and got back to his feet.

"My father's not the only one, and I'd feel like I was only bending to their opinion - I didn't deny things yesterday to people. You can blame me, but its only going to look worse if you use the paper to deny it so quickly." His voice was shaking a bit again. "People will forget, in days, in weeks. They'll leave us alone." He tucked in his shirt.

"Take it back, if only to show I stand by you." His long arm extended towards Hannah, the ring between his fingertips. "And then I'll go, and we don't have to speak again if you want." The break in his voice with the final line denied him sounding convinced about it.

"You scared the hell out of me, and my parents,"

This didn’t surprise her. She’d scared herself when she’d realised her actions. But she’d been driven to it. A society’s hatred, a wizard’s cruel words had pushed her that far. Hannah was not happy with what she did, she was humiliated by her actions. But Wolfgang had nonetheless deserved it in her mind. He’d deserved his own humiliation and very hopefully he’d have the mark on his face to remind him for a while.

But could he go to the ministry? No hitwizards or WCU had come banging on her door yet…

Johann’s next words shocked her. The same way as what exactly? Her and Johann were friends, until now neither had expressed the want for anything more. They were too similar in their social deviancy to ever want anything more.

“People have reacted to me like that since I made the front page.” She whispered, frowning down at the wizard as he tied his shoelaces. Wouldn’t that have been quicker with a wand?

"Take it back, if only to show I stand by you."

A hand tentatively reached out and took the ring once more. It would have been an understatement to say that Hannah was mildly confused. What was this? Did he want to marry her or just pretend for the moment? Was this a ploy to piss his father off or support werewolves as a whole and protect the both of them from the public’s wrath?

“I don’t want that.” He was her only real friend. One couldn’t count Knox Greyfriar. Friends were supposed to like one another.

The ring was slowly pushed back onto her finger before Hannah looked up, worry creasing her soft features.
“Do you think he’ll report me? To law enforcement?”

She took it back, instead casting aside his offer to leave in a hurry. That was handy, he wasn't sure what the time was, and subsequently how long he had to get back to the flat to shower and change before getting back to the Ministry for the day.

Perhaps there was no avoiding being late today, and his inconsistent hours this week would only get him further flack from colleagues. Gabrielle was watching him like a hawk as it was. He was only lucky it hadn't been a night he'd agreed to meet Landis, or help Vedir to compound things.

"Thanks." He near whispered.

“Do you think he’ll report me? To law enforcement?” Hannah looked genuinely worried.

"There's a risk, but I'm hoping my mother will talk him out of it." It wasn't easy to see the damage Hannah had done before Johann had pulled her into the fireplace.

"I was thinking about it last night, while you were asleep. He's not too keen on the Law Enforcement over there. Sometimes I reckon they'd be interested in what deals go down at the bank. Besides, having had my own dealings with them, they're pretty bloody incompetent." A dark look crossed his face. "And if he does, I can play him at his own game."

Johann straightened his collar and caught Hannah's expression,
"I mean, I used to help out some of the auror types. They ..." confessing this to Hannah made him think a little harder about exactly what he used to make a living doing, "some of them used to be a bit 'heavy handed' with their prisoners, and they'd bring their witness statements to me for vetting, trying to cover their backs." He let go of a sigh of air, "Enough times."

Uncomfortable about that confession, and being confined in Hannah's bedroom, Johann made for the door to the small room.
"There's probably nothing to worry about. He made it pretty clear we're nothing to do with him now." He had his hand on the door, drawing it open and stopped. Wouldn't the fact he'd disowned a son give him motive to report them both? He shook his head, trying not to think about it. They'd have to chance it.

"Cup of tea?"

"And if he does, I can play him at his own game."

Hannah believed that about as much as she believed Wolfgang and she would become best friends and roast marshmallows over the fire in his grand German home. Johann was a smart wizard where intelligence came in but he wasn’t a game player. And neither was his friend. The actions of the night before had been rare for Bombay. The witch a year ago would never have confronted such a wizard in that sort of manner. This Bombay had launched herself at him to attack just as a wild animal would.

But she couldn’t play Storm at his own games. She couldn’t cope if any foreign ministry tracked her down for the assault. Perhaps decapitated dog heads were a regular sentiment to send in Germany?

Johann’s confession made Hannah frown but she felt no need to further question him. Whatever he got up to in his own time was his own business. Even if it involved law enforcement and dodgy dealings. The less she knew the better.

“Make it a coffee.” The witch muttered, not considering that it was perhaps her that should be the one making the drinks, it being her own flat. But she didn’t exactly entertain often. Such a small home was certainly not up to it. She let Johann head for the kitchen and stuck a hand under her pillow, in search of her wand. It wasn’t there. Where had it been stashed last night in all her worry?

“Accio wand.” She said, hand outstretched. Nothing came. The witch wasn’t good at this sort of wandless magic but that was one she’d managed before. Worry once more creased her features and she rushed out of the bedroom to where Johann was now in the kitchen.

“Have you seen my wand?”

“Make it a coffee.”

"Mm." Johann replied absent-mindedly, knowing how Hannah liked her coffee, one of those bits of information he retained. He headed into Hannah's kitchen, put on the kettle, and washed his face in her sink, trying to shrug off the night's sleep. This was going to be a very long day.

“Have you seen my wand?”

"No..." He was flicking the water from his fingertips into the bottom of the sink basin, his back to her. "Why, when did you last have it?" He turned reaching for a towel to dry his hands. The kettle water beginning to rumble.

It'd probably ended up somewhere in the living room, or under her bed. He didn't mind searching the first, but she could do the second. Trailing her out of the kitchen, he headed to the sofa in the living room and lifted his jacket from the sofa, finding his own 12 inches, ebony, dragon heartstring core - the same wand all his life. It didn't get heavy use...

"Here, I'm not sure me rooting through your flat's going to help." He extended the wand towards her, holding it by the tip. Most other wizards might also try accio but Johann's head wasn't quite up to that yet, not without consuming a cup of tea at least. Merlin, he caught sight of the time, it wasn't even 7 o'clock...

"Why, when did you last have it?"

This was one of those questions Hannah didn’t like. It was one she was incapable of answering. It was also a daft question. If she’d have known where she last had it she wouldn’t have needed to ask if he’d seen it. Sometimes Johann could be dumb. He was intelligent with languages, with book things but he didn’t have social intelligence. Hannah knew she wasn’t exactly an expert but she hoped she was more knowledgeable than the wizard that proposed marriage to his best friend on a whim and a suggestion from her mother.

But how was Hannah any better when she was wearing the engagement ring as an acceptance of the proposal?

“If I knew where I had it last I’d have it now, genius.” The healer responded coldly, sounding far more like her usual self. This emotional feelings thing was just not Hannah Bombay.

Through the kitchen she walked, squeezing past Johann and into the crowded living room. And there’d been three of them in here yesterday…it seemed like a very long time ago already. Johann followed her in and retrieved his wand from his jacket. The next thing he did surprised her.

Johann offered his wand to his friend. She looked up at him questioningly. He definitely wasn’t right in the head. Why didn’t he just perform a spell himself rather than give her his wand to do it? A thought occurred to Hannah as she reached out to take it.

“Can you even do spells, Johann?” She didn’t think she’d ever seen the wizard use his wand.

“Can you even do spells, Johann?”

"Yes…" He replied slowly, staring at her with confusion. Why not just take the wand, find her own, he could concentrate on tea.

Seeing that she wasn't keen to borrow, he shrugged, flipped it over with his nimble fingers and looked around the room, just in case it was sat poking out and they'd just not seen it.

"Accio wand." He uttered, but nothing moved in the room, and there were no strange sounds. His eyes slid to Hannah, expression reading 'I haven't failed to cast it, honest'.

"I just figured you were the more efficient party to find your wand, that's all. Mine's pretty docile, after all, never had a great calling for large amounts of magic when I work with words." He reasoned, hearing the kettle continuing to reach the boil in the kitchen. A cup of tea would be more magic than his attempts to find Hannah's wand.

Giving an exasperated sigh he stalked off round her flat, uttering the summoning spell at regular intervals, and between times sighing. Stood in the doorway of her bedroom, Johann took a deep, apprehensive breath before summoning, not quite sure he wanted to see anything else fly out attached to the wand… particularly underwear…

"You are sure you had your wand when you got back, aren't you?" He called from the bedroom doorway. "Absolutely, sure?"

"You are sure you had your wand when you got back, aren't you?"

Hannah had been on her hands and knees, looking under the sofa when her friend called to her. Another stupid question. She pursed her lips momentarily in thought before realising perhaps it wasn’t as stupid as she thought. She didn’t remember having it now that she thought about it. She remembered nothing after being brought back to the apartment. They’d cleaned the blood off her hands hadn’t they? She glanced down, seeing dried blood beneath her nails. Apparently not well. And then she’d gone to sleep, exhausted and too emotional to stay awake and go to work.

Struggling to her feet, the witch contemplated the horrible prospect of having left her wand in Germany. Had it fallen from her pocket? Had Johann’s malicious father stolen it from her as a lesson to teach? She didn’t much want to consider the prospects and instead left the living room, walking down the hallway, bare feet padding against the hard wood that had been left alone since her carpet had been singed beyond magical repair.

“Positive.” The healer lied, joining Johann at the bedroom doorway.

It was then she heard the strange noise. A hiss and then a bang beneath the wooden bedframe. Hannah’s gaze found Johann’s quickly before she bent down onto her knees once more, looking under the bed.

But as she lowered to face to glance under, the wooden wand shot out, flying into the wall and landing on the floor followed by a ginger ball of fluff darting from under the bed and pouncing on it once more.

“Herbert! No no, not for you.” The witch grabbed both cat and wand and started to stand up. “Apparently you can perform basic spell work, after all.” Her words were accompanied by a small smile.