"Cheers," Johann raised his beer to Hannah's glass, "Here's to picking up from wherever we left off some weeks back."

It was Monday night, and half a dozen of his colleagues in the Department had taken a few days off to spend with their offspring who had just returned from Hogwarts the previous Saturday. As such, Diagon Alley during the day had been run amuck with children, and in the evening which it was now, the older ones were cluttering up the pub being far too loud.

Johann was spending as much time as possible out and away from 'home', which had just turned into something completely different that he was still not sure about. Still, if he could while away more hours with Hannah before he had to face that, he would be a happy man.

"So, have you crossed your new boss yet?" Johann asked, setting his pint down. He ran a hand round the back of his shirt collar, fishing out his long curly black hair, remembering for the third time that day that he should have gone to get it cut again or tie it back into a ponytail.
"Ran into her the other day, she looks tough." His lips curled into a grin, "Not as tough as you though, so perhaps she better watch out." He raised his pint to her again.

Months ago Hannah Bombay wouldn’t have looked forward to spending an evening having a few drinks in the leaky cauldron with Johann. She was generally a witch that kept to herself and tried to avoid public spaces due to the reactions and horrible looks and comments she received from witches and wizards around regarding her status as a disgraced werewolf still working in the hospital treating innocent people with her dirty beastly hands. Yet the more she dealt with the comments nowadays, the more she tried not to care. People could hate. She would let them. She would get on with her life.

Over a year ago Hannah Bombay would also have been impeccably dressed for such an occasion in public. She would have been in smart high heels, neatly tailored robes and smooth hair pulled back from her face. She’d been distant and unsociable yet people had approached her for the neat, attractive appearance. Now she was sat at the small table wearing a pair of cheap muggle jeans, old trainers and a long sleeved shirt to cover the mangled scar on her forearm. Her hair had been scraped back into a messy ponytail and her face was clear of makeup. She was also looking older than her 25 years.

Now Johann, he didn’t look much different to the last time they had met a few months back. Yet he didn’t look too relaxed. Something was bothering him and she’d be bugging him about that in due time. Why would he have contacted her for so long after all? And his hair… Johann and Knox should have got together in the hairy wizard’s club. It was dreadful.

Two glasses clinked together in a cheers and Hannah took a sip of her white wine while Johann asked about her new boss. Now there was a topic. Head Healer Elliot was definitely a controversial witch to have as their new leader according to the gossip on the floor. Not that Hannah really engaged in such blather.

“I’ve not personally had the pleasure one to one. She had quite an entrance on our ward her first day. A real commotion as she wheeled a wizard with a snake venom bite in, yelling for a healer. She hadn’t thought to restrain him and he bit her and went for one of our mediwitches.”

Then she considered his words.
“Why would you have met her?”

This was perhaps the most relaxed he'd seen his best friend in a long while, which was pleasing, Johann thought on reflection. Too often he managed to end up irritating Hannah, or being subjected to a hundred and two probing questions on why he actually said something, or why he was a bit of an idiot. Oddly it didn't put him off, but perhaps Hannah wasn't trying hard enough.
"Why would you have met her?" Hannah asked, finishing her explanation of Elliot's interesting first appearance in Hannah's working life.

"I opened the door to her, most recently," Johann explained quite simply. "She called at my cousin Ignan's place in Godric's Hollow the other day." He batted his hand away from his pint for a moment, to indicate he wasn't being exact, not that Hannah probably cared.
"She used to be a Durmstrang professor, so she'd been at Hogwarts for the tournament." He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully and stared off past Hannah's shoulder. "... He was cooking, it was a bit weird... and I had to leave." His eyes flicked back to his dear friend. "She sounds like she enjoys an entrance. I hope she's a decent boss for you."

He sipped his beer and paid more attention directly to Hannah, smiling as he placed it back down on the table.
"Are things going any better at work, or are people still worried you'll eat them in their sleep?" He smiled mischievously, "You and Mr Greyfriar keeping well?"

“Me and Mr Greyfriar?” Hannah’s eyebrows rose as she eyed Johann with mild suspicion. Her relationship with Knox was an interesting one but that was no reason to group them together; to ask over their health as if they were one. Both were werewolves, companions and friends. But they were single beings not to be blended. He still irritated her but they now had an understanding, a common goal. “We’re keeping out of trouble.”

Johann didn’t need to know what they were up to. He didn’t need to hear about the healing they’d been doing for unregistered werewolves in trouble. It wasn’t as if she didn’t trust him, she just felt that the fewer people who knew the better. Knox had assured her they weren’t exactly breaking the law in helping people but Hannah didn’t take his assurances seriously. He still seemed to believe he was untouchable as a former headmaster and now Wizengamot elder. People respected him.

“But my patients,” Bombay lifted her drink, “perhaps they shouldn’t stop worrying.” She gave Johann a mischievous look before taking a sip.

The conversation being geared in her direction wasn’t something Hannah ever appreciated. So she leant forwards, placing her glass back on the table.
“Your uncle Ignan was having a date, Johann. With my new boss. You are not long for that house.” Her lips twisted into a small smile. “Pack your bags now.”

"We're keeping out of trouble." Johann smiled and raised his drink as if to toast that statement. He preferred seeing Hannah out of the papers and the courts.

"Mm, perhaps. I'd sleep with an eye open." He agreed cheekily to meet her mischievous look.

"A date?!" Johann spluttered, "Ignan on a date?" He had to put his drink down and wipe his lips with a thumb. "Have you met my cousin? He got voted most likely to stay single by the student body - he - oh."

Suddenly that piece of jigsaw fell into place and he stopped dead in the sentence.
"Oh. No wonder he looked smug, when he told me. Merlin, glad I left the house." He looked distressed at the thought.

"You're right, in more way than one though. We had somewhat unexpected guests the other day, who are still there." He lowered his voice and rested his arms across the table, frowning.
"My parents are in Britain, long term. No warning, nothing, just turned up Saturday morning." He looked to Hannah, "I'd even take your boss over them in that house, even given what you've just enlightened me with." 

The surprise exhibited by Johann when his friend suggested his family member must have been on a date brought a calm smile to Hannah’s lips. She’d seen Ignan Storm before at various events but never actually spoken with him. He’d appeared a grumpy older wizard, the sort who found breaking a smile might make his whole body crack and crumble. But then she supposed people may think that of her. Hannah wasn’t regularly caught with a smile.

“When a wizard cooks for a witch they’re not just discussing business, Johann.” She let that sit in the air before saying something quite unexpected from this particular witch.
She let her eyes lock onto his, “I hope you stayed out all night.”

"My parents are in Britain, long term. No warning, nothing, just turned up Saturday morning." Johann destroyed a somewhat jovial feeling that had been lingering within his friend and she suddenly looked very uncomfortable.

What was Wolfgang Storm and his placid wife doing back in Britain? And furthermore, why were they with Johann in his cousin’s home? Hannah’s mind flashed back to her out of character display of revenge in Wolfgang’s home followed by the streaking through the ministry in his skin.
Did she have anything to do with it?
“Why?

Hannah enquired on the circumstances, neither of them with fond memories of interacting with his father.

"Trouble." Johann replied simply, and quickly tried to think where to begin. "You remember my parents both worked for a wizard bank?" He asked, meeting her eyes with his gaze, "They both lost their jobs very suddenly. My father claims he took the fall for some fraudulent accounts. But someone started a rumour that he wasn't quite right in the head," he let out a quiet 'heh' at that comment, memories of the dog's head in a box being good evidence, "…had streaked through the German Ministry without a spot on him, stupid stuff like that, according to my mother." Johann brushed the thought away with a hand in the air between them.

"Anyhow, my mother tried to draw attention to the 'injustice' and the bank found a reason to let her go too. If I'm honest, I wouldn't put it past my father to have been involved, even if he maintains he is nothing to do with it." He reached for his drink and took a sip. "But my mother, definitely not." He shook his head, curls bouncing.

"The house, the one you saw a bit of, it belongs to the bank. So, naturally they took it back. My parents went from their nice, comfy, privileged lives to being homeless and distrusted by the family. So they decided that despite disowning me, as you heard, that I might be of assistance." Johann's expression darkened. "And by extension, my cousin Ignan, since that's where I've been living since Easter."

He tapped his fingers slowly on the table and looked to Hannah darkly,
"Funny how things work out…"

As the reasoning for Wolfgang’s sacking from the ministry became evident, Hann struggled to keep her expression calm. Johann’s mention of his father streaking through the ministry caused her teeth to bite down on her tongue to avoid any facial muscles twitching into an untimely smile.

The bank had taken back the house where Hannah had scratched at Wolfgang’s face and sat in the living room completely naked. She’d never mentioned this act to her friend. As far as Hannah had been concerned, Wolfgang’s stealing of her money was something between her and him and nothing to do with the younger Storm.

“Funny indeed…” Hannah took her glass in hand once more and covered her mischievous smile behind the wine as she took a sip. She considered her options for a moment. There was the more sensible approach of changing the subject and not pressing into the finer details of Wolfgang and his wife’s suffering or the was the much more interesting option of finding out every gory detail.

“He must have done something to warrant such rumours, Johann. Does your father have a penchant for streaking?”

Johann, relaxed in Hannah's presence despite the subject matter did not notice Hannah's face take a strained expression for a moment as she fought to hide her smile. He'd have noticed more if she had smiled.

"He must have done something to warrant such rumours, Johann. Does your father have a penchant for streaking?"

Looking up to Hannah again he shook his head,
"No, he's never had proclivity to being nude at all. I think he'd rather saw off a leg than wear a pair of shorts." He smiled a little to himself, a childhood memory briefly arising amongst his thoughts. When they had visited extended family in Italy when he was younger - his mother suggested that Wolfgang wear a pair on a very hot day. His wife's request did persuade him to try in the privacy of the rooms where they were dressing, but Johann had giggled on catching a glimpse of his father's spindly legs, and that had sealed the deal that shorts were to be burned with incendio.

"Perhaps he did lose grip on reality. He's always had a tenuous grip on what is socially acceptable with his prejudices. Perhaps," Johann looked up and raised an eyebrow with humour, "the thought of werewolf grandchildren was too much."

Johann pondered over his father’s lack of habitual nudity while Hannah thought back to her run through the ministry, the cold air on her borrowed body. Countless faces had stared at Wolfgang Storm’s figure, a mixture of horror, embarrassment and great amusement plastered on them. She’d made sure they could all see his face, all know exactly who the lunatic running butt naked through each ministry. She’d even skipped a little to make extra sure he’d looked ridiculous.

But Johann couldn’t know. Wolfgang had certainly disowned him but it was her fight with the prejudiced wizard, she didn’t wish to share it.

“Have you taken him in, Johann?” Hannah’s eyes danced over his face, her brow now creasing with mild concern. “Or rather, your cousin?” Slim fingers nursed the drink before her. “Does he realise that your father disowned you?” Hannah already knew the answer to her question. She knew Johann well enough to understand he wouldn’t hold a grudge forever.  He loved his mother and his father came with her. He found it far harder than his younger friend to cut family ties.

“You should be letting him sleep on the streets like a dog.”

As Hannah spoke, Johann watched her with keen eyes, the corners of his mouth curling occasionally. He enjoyed his best friend's blunt humour, though Hannah may not have meant it to be funny.

"I'm not sure they'd let me sleep if I did that, but I've considered it." Johann replied with a nod, and pushed his curly hair (ever in need of seeing scissors) back from his brow, imagining his father heckling Diagon Alley from a sleeping bag, and ignoring a voice in the back of his head proclaiming that it was only just.

"They turned up on the doorstep Saturday and invited themselves in. I was rather stunned to see them. They even brought their house elf, which ruined the classic portrayal of 'homeless' rather." He sat back and made a face, remembering the morning. His mother had led the invasion, and his father had looked uncomfortable for it - a sort of role reversal.

"… Imposed themselves at Godric's Hollow. I'm staying as little time as possible there. My father's different, like the wind's been knocked out of him, but it's only a matter of time before he is back to his old ways." Johann shrugged and rubbed his thumb at a mark on the glass, finding it was a small chip on the rim instead. The tension in his hand as he did it indicating his worry at being in close proximity to his father back on form.
"He's still got that mark," Johann looked up suddenly, dropping the glass back to the table. He raised his hand and indicated on his own face, "where you went for him. It's become a scar." He shrugged his shoulders, and lowered his gaze.

"Ignan's none too pleased, but it's his house, he can decide. Of the two of us, he's got the balls to throw people out. " He glanced up to Hannah and gave a half smile, acknowledging one of his many shortcomings. "I'll get back and they'll be gone if I'm lucky." He finished the last in his glass thirstily.

"Another?"



End