Bowl now full, Hannah lowered herself onto a stool at the table and broke off some bread. She dipped it into the stew and let it soak up the juices.
“He turned up at my flat. Refused to let me take him to St Mungo’s.” She popped the bread in her mouth and swallowed. “And I don’t want an auror in my flat.” She certainly wasn’t going to tell him that she’d wanted his help and support. She’d probably never hear the end of it. Knox certainly knew how to gloat.

The healer was silent for a few moments, shovelling spoons of stew into her mouth before she frowned and looked up at Greyfriar. Why had he asked such a question? Did he have a problem with the situation?
“You don’t mind do you? I just remember you talking about the healing capabilities of your spare bed.” Hannah also remembered the curt words they’d had about the last similar situation. Only last time Knox had dragged her into it. Perhaps the old goat was rubbing off on her. She pursed her lips in thought. Definitely not. She wouldn’t let it. Hannah Bombay wasn’t a righteous old fool with a booming voice.

“We aren’t the only victims of the ministry. Even an auror is secretive.” Then Hannah said something that could only remind her companion of her old self. “I’d have liked to test his corpse to find out the secret.”

"No no, don't mind," he said hoping to quell any thought that he was displeased.  She was correct in recalling the usefulness of his spare room.  Part of him, somewhere not so deep, had hoped it would be put to such use again if anyone should need it.  He hadn't thought it'd be so soon, and at the conveyance of his Hannah Bombay.

But that was Hannah's way.  She seemed to take so many things like an attack.  He was used to that by now.

He had only to nod sadly at Hannah's astute observation that their world was even hostile to those most deserving of respect, the Aurors who risked life and limb to keep things safe (at least in philosophy if not in practice). 

"An Auror," he sighed.

She brought up the problem of how.  How had Auror Cooper come to be in such a pickle? 

"Do you know where he got it? The wolfsbane? I'd be sick as well if it was Ministry stock," he supposed. Although different batches, and perhaps Cooper collected his supply elsewhere, from some other official dispensory.  But Hannah - she home-brewed.  Perhaps she knew of other places that supplied the much-needed, highly regulated stuff.