"Dreadful, the world's still spinning."
"I know my love, you are so very brave." Wolfgang murmured to his wife, holding her head close against his shoulder with his hand. He spoke softly before placing a kiss upon her lightly sooted forehead before her dark curls. In his arms she clung gently to his jacket, hiding her face. They were both weary despite the journey itself from floo not being all that long, but the days leading up to it had taken their toll. As he held her for a moment, he looked over her head to the building before them, which had the signs of a recently repaired roof, but the paint on the windows peeled, and it could all do with washing down. It looked a little unloved, but not abandoned, and all the windows were open and noise could be heard from within, footsteps, sweeping. 

Behind them, their house elf waited respectfully for its master and mistress to get their bearings again on the garden path, eyes like saucers. They had come a long way, and this was the first time it had been in this country. It smelled damp, but not too much different to home, though there was a distant smell of agriculture. Moments before it had grasped them both by the wrists at it's master's command and brought them to the very address requested, even though it had never been there before. It was perhaps the furthest it had taken them in a long time, and if anything it felt a little giddy and had cautiously perched on one of the bags while their attention was away from it.

"This is definitely the place though, we'll be alright here." Wolfgang assured his wife, squeezing her tight for a split second before dropping one arm away from her so they could make a move. He tried his best to put on a brave face about it all, considering everything. Camille looked up at last and her mouth formed a little oh as she took in where they were. Quite house proud, and employing an elf, his wife had rather higher expectations. Before she could say anything, or change her mind, he raised a hand and knocked on the front door firmly, the sound echoing behind the door.

"Come on young master Storm, Hogwarts term finishes today, Master Storm will return to the house for the summer, so I must prepare it."

Johann lifted his head from the newspaper spread on the desk, roused from his slumber by Gerda the house elf addressing him from the doorway of the room. The top sheet of the copy came away from the desk with his cheek and then left and imprint as it peeled away. Despite the unusual resting place, it was quite comfortable and it felt exceedingly early to be woken.
"One minute." He mumbled, head settling back again, not actually coming to. Gerda would come back later, at a more reasonable time, she could wait.

CLANG!

Johann shot out of the chair and sprawled on the floor, his arms instinctively about his head to protect himself. Ignan's house elf was stood over him brandishing a frying pan with both hands, frowning and looking displeased. The way she held it aloft suggested she would reapply it at any moment.
"MERLIN! Gerda! Mercy!" He extended his hands towards her to appeal to her to keep the frying pan still. He didn't particularly want to be beaten to bits by a house elf, firstly it would hurt and secondly he'd never live it down.
"Master Storm told me to use the frying pan, Sir, does Sir not remember? Gerda did not use it on young master Storm, sir, just on the-"
"On the desk, yes Gerda, on the desk, thank Merlin. My head might have been splattered on the desk otherwise!" Johann exclaimed, giving the house elf a look of contempt before picking himself up off the floor and proving he was awake so the elf would take the frying pan away.

it was Saturday morning and he'd worked so late the night before he'd fallen asleep. What he would have done for his old insomniac habits on a night like that, at least he'd been able to meet deadlines! He felt less irritated by Gerda for the interruption once he'd completed the work. After washing, changing he ran to the post office in the village and back to send everything off, and sauntered back revelling in a sense of achievement. When he opened the front door again, he found Gerda was hard at work and everything was beginning to smell fresh. The house was breezy as the windows were wide open. Even the ghost upstairs was keeping out of her way, he found as he returned upstairs to consult his diary for other clients. 
"If you won't let Gerda clean sir, you'll have to clean instead." The house elf warned from the doorway of the room Johann had been sleeping in since Ignan had entrusted him with housesitting in April.
"Yes, yes." Johann dismissed the elf with a wave of his hand and a look of irritation. He didn't quite know where Ignan had got Gerda, though he knew he was partly to blame as he'd suggested a contact who could source a good elf when the old one had died. Either way she was a pushy housekeeper and although they got on well enough, she was both informant to Ignan and commanded to nag Johann. He supposed the room was rather cluttered, and there was no guarantee Ignan would let him stay.

Downstairs there was a firm knock at the front door, which distracted him neatly from the task in hand. He called to Gerda that he'd answer it and shot down the stairs, alighting at the front door beside the rows of boots, and the hooks that were full of cloaks and coats. He hauled open the door with anticipation of someone half interesting the other side of it, even if they were just trying to sell cauldron cleaner.
"Merlin!"

"Johann darling!" Camille reached forward and clapped her hands to her son's face while he was still in shock at seeing them on the doorstep. "So lovely to see you again, you're looking - well - isn't he darling?" She didn't cast a glance over her shoulder to her husband as she asked, but embraced Johann with both arms tightly, and kissed his cheek before he could protest.
"Son." Wolfgang greeted uncomfortably from behind, holding his tongue and avoiding eye contact. He'd let Camille do this, get them inside. He was under strict instructions not to cause a fight, and his main tactic for this was to avoid talking to him unless necessary.

"Is Ignan here?" Camille was already a foot over the doorstep, one hand on Johann's shoulder, the other inside the frame, passing him by, giving him no option. Wolfgang twitched his head to the elf who seized their baggage and squeezed in through the door with them. They knew full well that Ignan was not home. Wolfgang's invitation to the final feast of the year at Hogwarts had been revoked, he was not welcome, and the mood with the Durmstrang camp had been low since the Americans had sealed the deal by getting through the maze first. He wasn't sure if Johann had been in attendance, given he was only one of the admin staff and hadn't been a good source of information about the tasks despite Wolfgang's attempts.

As he passed over the threshold and into the house, it was clear that someone was hard at work cleaning in preparation of the arrival home of the owner, almost certainly not Johann, but the house elf that had replaced the perished one. Wolfgang had forgotten its name, but it was working hard to try and polish what appeared to be pretty sparse rooms and a house that was in need of good repair.   

To say that Johann was surprised to his parents on Ignan's doorstep was an understatement. His mind was rapidly trying to work out how he didn't know they were due to arrive. He was certain that nobody had told him about their visit, and he'd not written to either of them in months for good reason. Nor had he really spent much time with Hannah again. Though here they were, together, polite, complimenting him on how well he looked, which was the polar opposite of the discussions at Christmas. Caught by surprise, wrong-footed by their manner, he stumbled over his words,
"What, what are you- no he's not here, he's at Hogwarts - did I say you could - Mother - what - and the elf - why have you got bags?!"
"It's a long story, put the kettle on - oh Gerda, kettle, tea, there's a good elf."

Ignan's elf had appeared down the stairs, and looked as alarmed at Johann did as he was pressed into the cloaks beside the door to let his parents and their house elf get inside. She had not been expecting guests, and didn't recognise these two from her concerned expression, and the fact she was carrying a tablecloth over one arm.
"Were we expecting you?" Johann asked, the front door still wide open despite the party having made their way in. Their house elf dropped the bags in a neat line beside the modest dining table and dusted its hands on the pillowcase it was wearing before pulling at its ears and eyeing up Gerda with interest. Johann had lost track of what it was called, it wasn't the one he'd grown up with, but he was pretty sure it was male.
"I don't think you sent me an owl, and Ignan didn't mention you were coming."

Gerda shook her head ever so slightly, and set down the tablecloth on the dining table, her eyes taking in the line of bags her fellow elf had just put on her clean floor, and then took a better look at the human guests, and drew the family resemblance between her thirty-four year old charge and his parents at that moment. Guests were guests, and it was undoubtedly young master Storm's fault for not informing her there were guests coming that day.

Their son was understandably flustered, Wolfgang thought as his son gabbled, partially answering questions while asking more between to try and get his head around the situation. Still, at least they hadn't turned up to find him dead to the world on sleeping potion which he had feared. He was glad Ignan was keeping an eye on Johann, especially after they had fallen out. As angry as Wolfgang had been, Johann was still his only son, and his only chance at grandchildren.

"We didn't write ahead." Wolfgang got straight to the point, shouldering off his coat just inside the doorway. He gestured for his son to move away so he could hang it up on the hooks by the front door. Camille's entrance had pressed her son into the rack to leave space for them to enter, and he hadn't prised himself out. As he lifted it to loop it over the hooks he felt rather weary, and wanted nothing more than to sit down and close his eyes. Johann hadn't moved far from beside him he noticed as he turned around to go and sit down.
"Come, sit, we'll explain." He caught his son's elbow very gently with thumb and forefinger, still tentative considering their last few meetings had included violence and shouting. Johann flinched away from him, refusing to be led, and stepped aside. Across the room, Camille had slipped her cloak off and had laid it over the back of an armchair before taking a seat. Wolfgang left his son be, and went over to join his wife.

With a rattle of cups and saucers, Ignan's house elf re-entered from the kitchen with a tea tray, shadowed by their elf, Gert, who took over to pour, knowing how they preferred their tea. Wolfgang sank down on the sofa instead and exhaled, eyes half closing. Ignan's place wasn't too bad, a little plain, but it was a roof, and a place to stay which was more than he had at the moment. At least it was clean and safe, and was a part of the family who hadn't made it their business to laugh at them. He wasn't sure he could go through too much more of that without snapping.

From near the front door, Johann caught Gerda's eye as she retreated from the tea tray to let the other elf take over. She looked prickly, none too pleased, but respectful enough not to risk a scolding. He turned his head away from his parents while keeping her attention and mouthed as clearly as possible for her to go to Ignan at Hogwarts and inform him of the unexpected arrivals. Her nose twitched and she retreated into the kitchen where Johann heard a soft pop as she vanished. He let out half a breath that he'd been holding, reassured that help would be on its way in some long distance, however ridiculous that sounded, considering it was his parents.

He pulled his wand from his jacket merely to shut the front door behind them all, the non-verbal spell cast while examining the two of them and their tea. They'd already made themselves quite at home it seemed. He tucked his wand away to sit down on the sofa at the other end to his father, perching and refusing to get comfortable, feeling that this was all a trap. His eyes ran over them both critically, taking in every line on the brow, their ticks, how they were dressed, the state of their shoes. He treated them as complete strangers. It had been some months again since he'd seen them last and the whole situation put him on edge, despite his mother's affections - which he'd missed.

His mother's hair lacked the careful styling she preferred, and looked dull. There were flecks of floo powder on them both, and his mother's green tinge to her complexion backed that up as she would feel terribly sick after every fireplace encounter. International floo then, at the very least, to get to Britain. She'd be fine after a cup of tea and time to collect herself, for all he loved her, Johann couldn't quite see why she found floo such a trial when it was bread and butter for him. Her clothes looked her usual style, but the two of them looked like they'd worn their outfits yesterday as well as today, and perhaps the day before that still if he was very critical. It wasn't to say they smelt, because they didn't, his mother was still wearing her perfume, and his father had shaved. However, Wolfgang's shoes were scuffed, and his face still bore the marks from where Hannah had attacked him. He looked very thin, and so tired that Johann realised subconsciously he was almost feeling sorry for him.

"This isn't a social visit, is it?" He asked his parents levelly.

Camille closed her eyes a moment and seized her teacup, even though the tea was far too hot still. The armchair was the most comfortable thing in the world as far as she was concerned at that moment, and it was enough to make her want to fall asleep right there, had it not been for the strong breeze coming through all the open windows. She sighed and opened her eyes to observe the two wizards in the room with her, Gert waiting respectfully by her side should his mistress need anything.
"Your father is best to explain."

Across the room from the sofa, Wolfgang's eyes opened fully and he stared at his wife with alarm. She was so much better at speaking to their son, and explaining difficult things. He didn't really want to rehash it, especially if he was trying to avoid starting another argument.
"But-." One look from his beloved wife, and his protest didn't even make it to a full sentence. He sighed rubbed his face and pulled at his nose before turning to face his only offspring, sat at either ends of the sofa. He sighed and let his shoulders sink, there was no easier way to put it:
"The bank let me go." The words hung in the air and he made a face. It was still a better expression than they fired me. "And they found reasons to do the same to your mother, and naturally, as you know, the house… everything." He swallowed audibly, and stared at the floor. "Gone." He glanced behind them to the dining table where the elf had left their bags, a few suitcases and a trunk on wheels.
"That's everything."

He felt like such a fool to confess this to his son, who he had all but disowned not so long ago, and refused to speak to. He felt powerless, cornered, but beneath the shame was a burning need to seek revenge, though not against his own, he needed Johann if he were to achieve. They needed somewhere to stay, and had decided that getting out of the country had been the best route, because the whole family was laughing at them. If they were able to find somewhere to live here, they could appeal to Gringotts to take them on, with their experience, they could be very useful, if Chrysiopaeia hadn't already said something negative about them both.

Johann's eyes followed his father's to the bags and then back to his parents as he weighed up internally what had happened to lead to these events. He'd gleaned some of it from the papers he read on a daily basis, but he had no idea it had got quite so serious. His mother wouldn't put a toe out of line at the bank, she had quite a safe position, but his father was far more secure in his role with a senior post, a secretary. Johann had perceived him to be invincible, unless he'd dug his own grave? He hadn't been at all reasonable about Hannah though, so perhaps he'd done something similar at work. Only deserved then, if so, Johann thought to himself, though he hated that his mother ended up at a loss too.

Back in March some bother about his father supposedly seen naked in the Ministry in Germany - a photograph, speculation that someone had played a practical joke. Then trouble at the bank alluded to the newspapers, falling stock prices. He'd not paid critical attention to it but now he realised he really should have. He'd thought it was all a ridiculous joke, and media hype.
"How did it happen? You've been there for years. You're both as good as part of the bank." He asked, the sympathetic side of him on seeing how defeated his father was was seeping into his tone, particularly as he had worried more as an adult that his parents were so reliant on their employers for much of their lives, including the house.
"You didn't tell us anything bad was happening?" He remarked, shuffling his feet and sitting a little more comfortably on the edge of the sofa, his hands knotted before him in worry.

"No, well, with everything, we didn't feel it appropriate to include you, and there wouldn't have been anything you could have done." Wolfgang explained, raising a hand to dismiss Johann's thoughts that he might have been of some use. Well, he might have, his mind had a way of puzzling things out and with a keen eye for research he could have uncovered things about some of the members of the board. Perhaps he still could, there was a thought. But for a moment Wolfgang shoved it aside to explain.
"We believe someone used polyjuice to impersonate me in March, they ran through the Ministry without a spot of clothing on, which drew attention we didn't need. There was trouble at the bank, yes, irregularities, you must have seen?" His son gave a nod, "Following the investigation, they needed someone to blame."
"They thought your father had become insane, decided that they could solve everything by letting someone take the blame. So they sacked your father, implicating him without actually saying so." Camille explained hotly, and sipped her tea with a livid expression. Wolfgang nodded to his wife appreciatively for her support.
"Your mother went to tell the press how ridiculous it was, and had her job terminated by the time she arrived back from the newspaper offices. The paper didn't run the story, they were paid off." He shrugged and shook his head. "Son, we wouldn't ever dream of doing this to you, but in the circumstances we have no choice." He appealed to his son with upturned hands. "Only until we can get on our feet again."

The subconscious feelings of sympathy were bubbling up into real feelings and suddenly severed dog heads, unkind words, and being told that having thoughts about men was an abomination faded into complete insignificance as his parents explained their predicament. If they were lying then they were fantastic, and had gone well out of their way to do it. Either way, their chance to stay in Godric's Hollow was entirely down to Ignan, and not to Johann, who was none too keen to share his space with his parents even for a night if he could help it. Despite their plight, a leopard did not change its spots, and Johann did not want them asking questions about his life, or getting involved again. His relationship with Arcturus was at peril as it was with his partner being so tentative. The last thing it needed was his parents rolling into town - it had gone so fantastically well last time…

End