Perhaps years ago, Hannah wouldn’t have recognised the humour associated with Johann’s description of corpse tables. But today, experience and a better understanding of people led to the edges of the witch’s lips to twitch, her expression forming a soft, begrudging smile.
And it felt bloody good.
Johann laughed, comfortable in her company and with his terrible joke.
Hannah chose not to fight the amusement, letting out her own laugh and shake of her head. With such a release, her own eyes brightened, looking at the man she’d been close to marriage with before the entire mess her life had become.

“Because you’re still my friend, you’ve always been my friend even through all this shit.” 

Hannah’s thoughts sobered as the wizard reached and took her own hand in his, squeezing. Perhaps surprisingly, her own smaller hand squeezed back.
“Thank you.” her voice was warmer, calmer as she pulled her hand away and lifted tea to her lips. “But I’m not going anywhere.”

Taking the moment to slowly sip her tea, Hannah considered her words. Johann had seen her at a dark time, at one of her worst lows. She’d been desperate. But she’d refused to run, she’d fought. If the past years had taught her anything, it was that she could fight damned hard.

“How are you with decorating?” An eyebrow rose as she smiled across at her friend. “I’m back in the ash covered flat with soot for paint.”

Their hands slipped apart, which was only comfortable, and everything seemed to fall back into place, though under a different light. Johann was happy with that, more than happy. He was still smiling as he made short work of a slice of hot buttered toast and Hannah drained the rest of her mug of tea in mutual silence.

“How are you with decorating?”

“Not my usual repertoire, but nothing I can’t brush up on.” Johann replied softly, shrugging his shoulders gently. The witch returned with more tea as promised, and the conversation was punctuated by making space for a homely yellow teapot between them, and a matching milk jug.

“If you need any furniture, I know a wizard who owes me a favour with a shop down the road with nice second hand antique stuff, or I can try get you mates rates on the self-assembly type I write instructions for.” Johann gestured in the direction of the shop with the next slice of toast.

“Uhm… How’s Herbert?” He ventured sensitively, unsure if the cat had been alright considering Hannah’s incarceration. He’d been by Hiraeth to see if he was about but hadn’t come across the fluffball. He had a feeling the Fates would have tried to eat him for breakfast, as was their territorial nature.

While ‘mates rates’ and calling on favours may have sounded enticing, Hannah wasn’t biting at the bit to tell her ‘mate’ that she didn’t even have the money stored away for any rates. Her attempts to once more make the flat habitable would take far less money and far more ability with spell work. She may not have asked the right person for such a job, but, in reality, Hannah had asked one of the few people that she knew would try to help her.

“Just a bit of paint and…de-burning.” The witch quietly responded with a shrug.

More tea was brought over just as Hannah finished the last mouthful of her breakfast. Her knife and fork were neatly placed on the plate and she looked up to see the teapot levitating and pouring tea into both cups.

“Alive, with no thanks to me,” Hannah gladly described the conditional of her furry friend and witch’s familiar. “Auror Eleor found him and kept him. He’s in the flat now. Looks as beaten down and straggly as I do.”

“Poor thing,” Johann replied automatically, and then looked a bit bashful as it might be applied to Hannah too. “Both survivors. I’m glad to hear he’s alright though.” He gave a more relaxed sigh. “Seems like a lifetime ago that he was jumping on my head with his claws all tangled.”

For as much as he wanted to bring her into the charmed life he had now with Balfour in Edinburgh, he knew Hannah was a fiercely private person, and their friendship was unusual in her life. Everything they had been through had tested it and pulled them apart, but still he couldn’t find it in him to think of Hannah as anything but a slightly dysfunctional friend. She’d put up with him at the beginning, and it was his turn to make sure the favour was returned.

“I’ll bring a catnip mouse for him,” Johann said and maybe something nice to cook in Hannah’s kitchen to lift her spirits. “And some of the good stuff.” He reached into his bag for his diary with a smile.


End