Wolfgang Storm was an oddly shaped man. His stringy limbs were awkward and hindered movement. His skinny frame felt uncomfortable and clumsy and the mere process of walking down the stairs had been a palaver. The gangly legs had tripped over themselves, causing the tall figure to tumble down the stairs unceremoniously and break a vase on the way. He picked himself back up with the ease of a new born horse still wobbly on its legs and sauntered, hips swaying, into the living room in nothing but a pair of black socks pulled halfway up his calves.

This was Hannah Bombay’s turn to demonstrate the potential trouble she could cause Storm should he continue to target her. So here she sat in his living room, in his armchair, in his body, in nothing but his socks.

Long cumbersome fingers were wrapped around the newspaper held out before him. His legs, as Hannah believed men’s legs usually were, were spread out in front of him, leaving all and sundry to take a good look. Yet he was sat upright, his wrinkled face squinting at the text on the paper. The aging wizard’s eyes were failing him steadily.

Several minutes before, Hannah had been stood in the Storm master bedroom transforming in front of a tall mirror after having taken a hair from the wizard’s pillow and drinking the horrible mixture of polyjuice. The transformation had been painless yet uncomfortable. Nothing like her own transformations. Yet the end product was far more unnerving than changing into a werewolf. She was in the body of someone she hated far more. She’d stood in the mirror staring at the face she had scratched herself, the eyes she wanted to claw out.

There was a loud crack in the hallway and Wolfgang looked up from the blurry paper for a moment. He drew a deep breath and called to his wife.
“Cabbage!” That was something Johann said. “We need to talk. I am disturbed by something.”

The house elf and his mistress returned home with a snap, hand in hand. it was always nicer to apparate by house elf, than herself, and both were better than floo by a long way. They had been out shopping together, it was Friday and she had taken a little time after work for the purpose. Wolfgang had warned her that morning he would have to work late. It was quite common in recent weeks, trying to sort out the mess and the investigation into some fictional account holders.

"Cabbage!" Camille almost jumped out of her skin. It sounded like Wolfgang, but somehow different, and in English. Had he come home early with someone? "We need to talk. I am disturbed by something."

To her surprise the voice continued and it appeared to be addressing her. The house elf blinked, as if sharing her confusion, and then scooped up all the bags and headed off down the hallway to the other door to the kitchen, rather than the one from the living and dining room.

"Darling?" She greeted cautiously, making her way into the living room. There was the familiar sight of her husband in his armchair, with the newspaper, but there was something rather odd indeed about him.

"I didn't realise you'd be home?" She managed in English, figuring it would be polite to continue in the language he had chosen.

"Are you feeling quite alright?"

Her husband was sitting in his armchair, naked apart from a pair of socks. He wasn't even covering his modesty. Thank goodness the house elf had gone to the kitchen and wasn't there to witness it. She approached with trepidation. He'd been awfully busy and under a lot of stress at the bank…[1]



Meanwhile, back at the bank, the real Wolfgang Storm was rubbing at his tired eyes. It had been a hard week and his mind had been preoccupied with providing evidence to try and convince the authorities he knew nothing of some strange accounts, while trying not to appear incapable of doing his job. He was rather looking forward to going home, to the house elf cooking, and pouring a drink or two, and then perhaps if he asked her nicely, she'd rub his shoulders and ease that knot of tension that was between his shoulder blades.

He stood up, closed his eyes a moment and sighed, drawing his wand to extinguish the lights in the office, before crossing to the fireplace just lit by the fire embers, and reached for the floo powder.

1.	The Squat Little Man with the Tall Top Hat

Upon the arrival of the witch, Wolfgang’s wife, Johann’s mother, the paper was folded shut and dropped onto the floor. Wolfgang lifted his long gangly left leg and crossed it over his right knee. He sat back in the chair and eyed Madam Storm. She looked perturbed, unsure what to make of her husband’s behaviour. Apparently Johann’s father didn’t often sit in his armchair wearing only his black socks. He probably wondered around the house barking orders at her instead. It was a good job Hannah had decided to be Wolfgang losing his mind.

“I am more than alright my cabbage…flower.” Wolfgang responded with a strained smile, making it look like he was in rather an amount of discomfort. “Although…” his features twisted and the wizard shifted in his seat. “My rectum is itchy. I should see a healer about that. Remind me later.” The oddly British sounding German wizard nodded to himself in thought. That would surprise Wolfgang when his wife mentioned it. But he certainly did have a medical issue…

“Ahem…frau. You need to do something for me.” The wizard pounced from the chair and strode around the witch, long, awkward strides, encircling her. “I am an atrocious wizard and I need to repent my misendeavours. Merlin spoke to me this morning. Loud and clear. I need to return what I stole. Plus more! A great expanse more. Miss Bombay. You must send her the money I stole.” He stopped in front of Camille and grinned, eyes wide.

“One enormous ejaculation of bodily gas and I see it all!”

Camille wondered if she might call a healer, Wolfgang had never greeted her in this way - well, not since their younger courting days of fancy free moments before having their son. Normally they confined this to the bedroom - even if they lived alone with a house elf!

Perhaps it was imperio? Someone at the bank? She should be careful. One hand in her pocket of her robes clasped her wand.

"Your what is…?" Camille's English rather let her down, but it was cast aside as her husband encircled her, not even covering his modesty with the newspaper. Thank goodness they did not have any guests planned for the weekend.

"I am an atrocious wizard and I need to repent my misendeavours." Camille was struggling, and she wished he'd speak to her in German like normal. She turned left and right to try and keep watching him as he passed.

"Merlin spoke to me this morning. Loud and clear." Camille's eyes widened with fear, oh dear me, he really had gone strange. She would have to owl Johann to come and help her, she couldn't think to ask anyone outside the close family - it wouldn't do.

Her husband continued, explaining, and when he mentioned Miss Bombay Camille stood up a little straighter, especially as he had stopped right before her and was grinning.

"Miss Bombay?" She asked, trying to recall the name, "Hannah? The girl Johann was to marry?" She gestured in confusion. "What are you talking about? I thought you didn't care about her? Why would you have her money?"

The door creaked open to the living room, the house elf was attempting to come in with the cup of tea she normally took after shopping, and stopped dead, seeing its master's bare backside and popped into thin air, complete with teacup, the door swinging shut again. It had got rather good at vanishing when things looked unusual in the house.

"You must be cold darling, let's get you dressed." Camille suggested kindly, just as the fireplace behind her spluttered into life, causing her to turn on the spot. Merlin it would not do for someone to witness this!



Tired, and weary, the real Wolfgang Storm stepped out and straightened up from the fireplace, coming to stand by his wife, who he recognised easily from the back. He reached out a hand to embrace and kiss her and stopped short on seeing what was before them both.

It was him, nude, well, apart from the socks. No wonder Camille looked like she'd seen a ghost. His own features twisted into a mix of alarm, and surprise, and his wand found its way into his hand.

"What on earth?" he exclaimed in German, and Camille gave a thankful little squeak beside him, not that he knew, but it was owing to the language he addressed the matter in, along with his state of dress.

“Of course I care!” Wolfgang yelled back into his wife’s face. “I was bad, Camille! Disgusting! I robbed her blind!”

As the lights in the fireplace glowed Wolfgang threw his hands into the air and exclaimed in German.
“Why does my rectum itch!”

The real Wolfgang Storm stepped from the fireplace and the fake Wolfgang Storm stared in awe, eyes wide and mouth open. He blinked hard, screwing his features tightly before once more opening his eyes, disbelieving.
“Me…” He hissed in German, curling his toes up into the carpet. Now was Hannah’s time to shine. To demonstrate to Wolfgang Storm that he was not in control and free to mess with her. She took a step forward, hands reaching out. They clasped the real Wolfgang’s cheeks and pulled at the skin. “Uncanny…”

Pale eyes met their match across the small gap and Hannah’s Wolfgang drew in a deep breath before tilting his head.
“My fart caused you?” He shook his head, disbelieving yet his eyes didn’t stray from himself. “I wasn’t expecting it to rip the fabric of time as well as my underwear…”

His double grasped his face before he had much chance to react. Merlin he had a harsh grip.

With a growl, the real Wolfgang threw off the hands, his face stinging.

"What underwear?!" He exclaimed to the imposter, "Who or what are you?" He retorted, stabbing his double in the ribs with the tip of his wand.

"I thought it was you?" Camille exclaimed from beside him.

"Well it's not, clearly," the wizard retorted, stepping closer to his doppelganger "And I want to find out who it is."

"Did you steal from Hannah?" Camille asked, which had Wolfgang turn momentarily to look over his right shoulder at her. Why would she ask that? Unless…

"…Bombay… if that's you you've really gone too far." He raised his wand.

“Ow!” Wolfgang retorted, swiping the stabbing finger away. For a moment Hannah almost slipped back into herself upon being touched. Someone’s flesh on hers made her want to get as far away as possible. It made her almost stiffen. Yet she didn’t. Instead she stood exactly where she was, large man feet planted on the floor, staring ahead at the other Wolfgang Storm.

"I thought it was you?"

“It was me!” The wizard blurted out in English. “It is me! Now. I am me. He is me!” He shook his head and looked down at his feet. “Oh my.”

But then the witch mentioned Hannah’s name and the healer stiffened in the tall wizard’s body. This was slowing down quicker than expected. Or did it have to? She looked up from the socked feet to the wizard who now had his wand trained on her.
“Bombay…Where is she? I don’t want her near me, filthy creature.” Hannah looked to Camille, suddenly looking sad. “She caused this, my cabbage. Her and that blasted itch!” Eyes shot to Wolfgang. The real Wolfgang. “I need to see a healer. No, you need to see a healer. Who is me? Who am I? Why am I pointing a wand at myself?”

Hannah knew she was in dangerous territory. She was fully aware of what she was risking to be there with Storm pointing a wand at her. But it was vital to have her point made to him. To have her threat laid down for him. He needed to know that his enemy wasn’t a whimpering little girl. That she could fight back.

“Camille who is that?”

Camille stared from one to the other, confused and her hands went to her hair, trying to puzzle it out. She was pretty sure her real husband was the one with the wand, in that he was acting in the way she expected, and had arrived home in the same sort of fashion as usual.. and was dressed. Much as she knew her husband's naked body, being forced to deal with it in this situation when it kept talking about an itchy posterior was a bit much.

"Yes, she is a filthy creature and a manipulative little one at that." The real Wolfgang agreed with his double, his eyes still glaring intently.

"Tore at my face in this very room, tried to convince me my own son had blessed her with children. Ruined his life."

So the last one was perhaps a bit rich, but he wanted to see if Bombay did give a rat's backside about the Storm's only child who had allowed Bombay to enter the situation. That was, if this was Bombay. It could yet be someone else, but if he had to put money on it, Bombay fitted the bill most at this moment in time, until the intruder gave away anything else.

"Didn't much like my gift, neither." He added, watching for recognition in his own eyes. Merlin, he had to get more sleep, he looked terrible.

Hannah didn’t want to show that Storm’s words had gotten to her…or him. The fake him. She frowned in Wolfgang’s wrinkled features and rubbed his forehead with his long spindly fingers. They smelt of newspaper ink and tobacco.

“No no no, I ruined his life. Me, Wolfgang. Because I’m a prejudiced imbecile with halitosis and an itchy rectum.” To have a parent like this it was a surprise Johann was as near to normal as he was. The younger Storm wasn’t cruel and prejudiced. Yet the wizard before Hannah would happily throw her to rot in a cell for what she was. He needed teaching a lesson.

But Hannah could feel the potion would soon wear off and she’d be stood as herself, naked in the middle of the living room with a wand pointed at her chest. The wizard’s eyes, heavy bags beneath, locked upon its doppelganger and his furry grey browns lowered into a scowl.

“You’re going to return that money, Storm. With interest. Or everyone you know…” The witch raised her arms into the air, lifted up onto her bare tiptoes and did a pirouette in the middle of the living room before once more facing her adversary. “Is going to see just how much Wolfgang Storm has lost his mind.”

“Accio wand.”

"No, no, no. I ruined his life. Me, Wolfgang…"

Beside him, his wife's features went through a metamorphosis as she decided which emotion to show. She was still somewhat angry at her husband for the whole incident with Johann - and for sending their son and potential daughter in law a dead dog's head. Wolfgang thought it had all been entirely justified - Johann was turning out to be quite the disappointment as a son, down to who he associated with: werewolves and sharing beds with other men. (Albeit the second unproven)

"You're going to return that money, Storm. With interest…"

"Money?" Camille asked from between them. Wolfgang narrowed his eyes now sure that this figure opposite him was a creation of that filthy werewolf.

"… is going to see just how much Woflgang Storm has lost his mind."

All he had to do was immobilise her for long enough to let the enchantment wear off, and prove it. However, Camille knew nothing of the bank fraud that wiped out what very little Hannah had once had, and bringing up that he'd acted in such a way would probably be ill-timed considering the bank was under investigation.

"I lost that a long time ago, letting you near my son." He informed his mirror image and snapped with his wrist of his wand hand, a push to send his figure back into his armchair.

"And if you're thinking of getting away, Ms Bombay, you're quite mistaken."

“I lost that a long time ago, letting you near my son.” Wolfgang Storm informed his double. As he did this Hannah had already decided on her next move.

She, or rather, he, dived towards the fireplace and grabbed a handful of dust. This was thrown into the fireplace and the wizard, in a very feminine voice stated the desired location to be spat from the hearth.
“Ministry for Magic.” The lanky naked wizard stepped into the flames and disappeared. The spinning and pushing and pulling and lurching took hold. Next she knew she was being thrown from the fireplace and landed on the cold marble floor of the German Ministry for Magic. People suddenly started to stare and she looked up, lifting a lanky arm before taking a bow. The dizziness caused by the journey suddenly took hold and as the flash of a camera momentarily lit the atrium, Wolfgang Storm toppled into a nearby person.

“Whoops! Perhaps the wind up my bum just reached my head.” He gave a little giggle before running towards another fireplace. This one he threw a handful of dust into and yelled “To the British ministry Sir! And make it snappy!” with that, Wolfgang Storm skipped into the green flames.

Another session of pushing and pulling occurred before the lanky naked wizard was once more spat out into the ministry of magic atrium.
“Oh goodness!” The wizard yelled at the top of his voice, stopping passers-by dead in their tracks. “Where did my clothes go? I didn’t think it was that windy in the floo. That’s never happened to me before!” Some very official looking men started to approach, wands ready and Hannah decided it was best to make another quick move. “Perhaps I forgot to put them on today. Best go home and get them. Silly Wolfgang Storm! Silly silly!”

And once more Wolfgang Storm’s bare bum vanished into a flurry of green flames.