Zora looked and bit her bottom lip. She almost laughed. Iona was right. Completely and totally. Zora was a badass Auror and given the opportunity would hex anyone who moved to come for Iona. The two of them, they could stand against the world and say, 'bring it on,' so long as they stuck together.

"This just caught me off guard," Zora said and leaned her head against Iona's. "You've been working for something like this for ages. Been hard and it just suddenly it's here."

She did chuckle then and straighten up. "Holy shit, Io. You're going to be the head of the Werewolf Wing. Absolutely epic."

Feeling like the weight was lifted, she got into the food. Mouth full, she asked, "so you've got to see Marrowbone?"

Disagreement completed. Normal duties resumed.

What Iona had said about coming home to Zora had been completely true. If it hadn’t been for her other half these past few years, she wasn’t sure where she’d be now. Not having the confidence to throw herself into this new job, that was for sure. Both women had always had very clear opinions on werewolves; Zora being certain that their downtrodden attitude made them wish for handouts and pity, Bruce thinking restrictions needed to be tighter and ramifications for failing to meet them, harsher. Her own turn had left Iona lost and questioning everything she’d believed. Her damaged leg and the long recovery period had only made things worse. Iona had been left not knowing who or what she was. Zora had made her stop feeling sorry for herself and find a way to deal. No wonder she’d wanted to be a part of this.

A few minutes later, they were sat at the island with full plates of Chinese food and a glass each of champagne. Zora mentioned Marrowbone and Iona, with raised eyebrows, lifted a fork of noodles to her mouth.
“Yup.” She took the bite and started munching. “This whole opportunity is only hypothetical until I get the a-okay.” She frowned down at her plate, pushing a few pieces of chicken around. “On paper, I’m perfect for this job. In reality? I can’t even walk the day after a full moon.” And she’d have to. She’d have to be there for the fall out of whatever happened the night before.

But why dwell? Tomorrow would tell. Maybe she’d just have to bite the bullet and take a potion the day after the full moon to dull the pain.

Iona shook her head and smiled at Zora.
“Marrowbone will sign it, I know that. I’m just…” she let out an anxious laugh. “I’m nervous, Zo. It’s a big job.” It was suddenly feeling incredibly overwhelming! She’d not really thought through what it actually meant. “Gonna have to ditch the cargo trousers.” Then, upon realisation of something else, she groaned. “And Wav’s going to insist on a new job makeover. She’s been threatening it for the last year.”

Zora covered her mouth with the back of her hand to stifle a laugh. Waverley seemed to be constantly embarrassed by her parents' sense of style and didn't miss an opportunity to help them along. Zora would pay money to watch this go down. But maybe it would be productive. Waverley delivered if she could be arsed.

"Marrowbone will clear you," Zora agreed, mouth full. Athena Marrowbone had been Iona's healer since the beginning and had been nothing but aggressively supportive of whatever Iona wanted to do. Zora smiled remembering the towering Healer all but throwing Iona out of the ward once her leg was out of danger.

"And you won't be alone. You've got the whole wing and, Capture Unit aside, they're going to love you. General public, eh, but you get shite done, you know what you're doing."

She glanced up from her food. "Bit of a shock for Bagnold, innit."

Kurby Bagnold. Iona and the younger werewolf hunter had been thick as thieves right up until Iona got bit. Didn't visit, didn't owl. Fat good thanks for all Iona had done for him.

There was only so long they could talk about this new job without bringing up Kurby Bagnold. Iona, mid bite, gave a laugh and almost ended up with a noodle up her nose. she wasn’t looking forward to the battles she expected between herself and her former friend. They’d fought together, they’d drunk together and they’d faced down death together. But after the bite, he’d dropped her and ignored that she ever existed. It had hurt, but Iona had known why. She’d never been in any doubt that Kurby had decided that he couldn’t be friends with a werewolf. For him, she was now a different person.

What Iona did look forward to, however, was seeing his expression when she showed up. Maybe he’d feel like shit for his actions. Maybe he’d just grunt and accept it. Maybe he’d choose to dig his heels in and make life hell for her for a few weeks. She didn’t know. She needed to wait and see.

“Maybe I’ll break the ice and ask him about Queen G?” She grinned at her wife and stabbed a piece of chicken. “I’ll request an autograph next time he’s mid booty call since you never bothered.” A sip of champagne later, and Iona was laughing again. “You do realise our daughter is never forgiving you for that missed opportunity.”

Oh god. Queen G. Genevieve Garcia-Gamp. Insufferable, justifiably hostile, painted up, gossip-hound, media mogul, and uncomfortable reminder of the past - both by way of her husband and her ability to awaken the should-be-shuttered wrath of a maniac. Zora made a noise.

"No, no, I don't care. Moratorium on 'Queen G' talk. We're celebrating and I want to keep my food down."

Zora ought to be more charitable towards that long-suffering woman, but she didn't need reminded of her nastier cases at work. She waved a hand in the air.  "Bah."

 

Well Zora shot down that joke. Iona took another gulp of Champagne, and gave her wife a quick shove.
“Then don’t bring up Bagnold! I’ve got a few more days before I need to think of that shit.” And wasn’t he a shit. The shittiest of shits!

She frowned down at her food again, lips pressed together tightly. He would be her biggest challenge going back, no doubt. Not only on a professional level, but on a personal one.

“Am I supposed to ask him why?” she muttered, not looking at Zora. “Or just ignore that he’s ignored me for 3 years?” That was a toughie, and she already anticipated what Zora would have to say. Anyone that hurt Iona was trouble. She’d always been the same, and it was endearing, but not the most helpful in a situation where she would have to manage the shittiest of shits.

Zora laughed. "Touché!"  She'd forgotten for a hot minute that Bagnold and Genevieve had apparently had an affair. Zora didn't know Bagnold well, but enough to know she didn't get it. She put the thought from her mind, the image of him awkwardly emerging from the boudoir as Zora and her pups searched G's flat.

As funny as that had been, what Bagnold had done to Iona had been horrible and petty. For Iona to lose that support at a time like that, it was a lot to deal with.

"Depends how you want things to go with him," she said, still enjoying their simple celebratory dinner of good wine and take-away. "Do you need an explanation from him to get on with it? Feel like you can trust him? Honest question."

And it was. Zora didn't really have an opinion. Some things weren't worth re-living but there had to be something decent there to work with. And then the question, could this Kurby guy handle it? He'd trotted away because, presumably, he couldn't deal with Iona's change; maybe he still couldn't handle it.

Iona was surprised, to say the least. She’d expected her wife to brush off the issue, saying how the wizard clearly wasn’t worth it. She’d known how it had affected Iona to lose one of her friends upon the change. She’d trained Kurby Bagnold up from a young eager apprentice to the werewolf hunter he’d been when he’d dragged her away from the wolf dining on her leg. He’d saved her life because she’d chosen ‘rabid werewolf sex’[1] over death. She’d been his boss for 8 years and they’d been close, a seemingly unbreakable team.

“He trusted me to let him die, if it came to it. I trusted him with my life, Zo and here I am.” The witch shrugged. She may have been damaged goods now, but she was still alive. She’d still come home to Zora and Wav. “I think I know why, it would just be nice to hear it, you know?”

This, Iona knew, was too serious for a celebration meal. They should have been happy because she was finally getting off her ass on the sofa to sit on her ass behind a desk at the ministry. Worse scenery but far more interest.

“Anyway, are you ready to be a kept woman, Ms Roh?” Iona twisted around on her stool to face her wife. “I’m going to be earning the big galleons now. You’ll have to call me Ma’am if we bump into each other at work. You could bow too, maybe.”

And so, Iona Ballentyne continued to happily tell her wife everything about her day.

1.

If I fall