“Well yes, he is bitten because of me…” The head auror scowled across the table at the small and battered looking witch.

“You’re not denying it, then.” Pratt questioned, making yet another illegible scribble on the parchment laid neatly before him.

Hannah blinked and put a hand to her head. Her body ached all over. She felt physically sick and yet here she was in the auror office the day after showing up at Knox’s house in no fit condition to be handing herself in. Yet at least her old acquaintance Edward Pratt hadn’t arrested her, shackled her and thrown her in a cell for missing a full moon. He’d seen her condition, he’d heard her out. But not he was testing her patience.

“I’ve already explained, Sir. He kidnapped me. He locked her up and let me out to fight a muggle when I transformed.” The fear and sadness over what had happened was now lost in her voice. Instead it had been replaced by an irritation at the fact she must have repeated this ten times and she grew very weary.

“You saw him kidnap you?”
“I don’t remember…” She felt stupid, vulnerable. Hannah brushed some matted hair from her face and looked straight across the table, making eye contact with the blond wizard. “He was there when I woke up. Before the transformation. He sat on the edge of the pool above me and refused to let me out. What more do you need to arrest him?”
“You’ve got prior convictions, Bombay. Wolfgang Storm does not.”

The young healer closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to relieve the frustration of the questioning.
“My uncle was there. Lawrence Musgrave.” Hannah spotted Pratt sit up straighter, not paying her more attention. “He protected the muggle. He helped get Wolgang out after I bit him.”

“And ye know this how?”
“He took me somewhere safe. He was there. You track him down and you talk to him. He has no wand and he’s a one handed convict. He can’t be too difficult to find.”

The questioning continued for at least another hour. By the time Hannah was finally permitted to leave the interrogation room she felt weary and exhausted. Edward Pratt sat staring down at his notes. How was he going to handle this one?