The doctor and a linguist went drinking....


Johann chuckled to himself, pouring wine into glasses to top them up.

"One for you, Dr Bombay... and one for me. Oh, we're all out..." The bottle dripped into Johann's glass, and he made a face. "You know what that means?" He asked Hannah, who, in his opinion, seemed to have loosened up since he had led her from her St Mungo's ward to the Leaky Cauldron a couple of hours ago. She'd worked a long shift, was tired, but the time away from wherever she lived and the work place would do her good. It hadn't been the best start to her job, as Johann now understood.

"It means, Dr Bombay," He repeated her name with one of his cheeky grins, "We need another!"

Ahh, merriment. Johann could feel his acute and overactive mind settling, moving less quickly than it did by day, fueled by lack of food, too much tea, and sleep induced by sleeping potion, of which he had several types to switch between - an unfortunate and reliant addiction which was only worsening since arriving in England back in January. He felt happy to be in the presence of a good friend, away from the dreadful day of unicorn paperwork and everyone convinced he'd given Kaydn the antlers - including Gabrielle.

Living with one's cousin and boss didn't help sometimes. Johann was fully prepared to arrive back at an ungodly hour just to avoid any further questioning about the antlers, and other things that would follow. Despite his best discretion, it wouldn't go unnoticed that he was taking on work outside of the Ministry, the majority of it for Vedir. If Gabrielle got suspicious, he'd be compromised, and in turn compromise Vedir. Perhaps it was time to move on.

"See, knew this was what you needed." Johann told Hannah joyously, patting her upper arm, his own cheeks a little rosy. "I offered to help, and here we go. Pub, drink, company." He smiled.

Alcohol was quite impeccably delicious. Or at least this particular brand of wine was. Sure, it was one of those tastes Hannah had originally thought appeared similar to malt vinegar at the commencement of the evening’s activities. But perhaps wine just tasted better the more you had of it, Hannah pondered as her now hazy brown eyes watched Johann pour more out of the bottle into their glasses. The flow stopped and the woman pursed her lips. It was getting slightly harder to focus, but she ignored this. She was having a nice time. She hoped Johann was also having a nice time.

“It’s your turn.” The witch declared as she cautiously reached out to pick her glass up and grasp between her fingers. They’d just finished their first bottle. Hannah only drank slowly. In fact, she had only drunk slowly. She didn’t usually drink. She’d had about one and half glasses. Johann had seen to the rest. But this was more than enough for a woman that didn’t drink. She took a long sip and placed the glass down on the table, quite hard before leaning forwards, resting an arm on the table between them and pointing a finger at her friend.

“You,” Hannah poked the older man in his chest, leaning forwards and struggling to focus on him. “Johann storm, just wanted to get me thoroughly inebriated.” The words evidently demonstrated the concentration used to form them. The healer spoke slower than her usual to the point, wasting no time pace and tone. Both body and brain had started to move slower than habitual and it felt exceedingly odd.

She thought over what he’d said and frowned, before taking another large sip of wine. It certainly tasted better now! “Pub...drunk...company.” She shook her head and laughed slightly. “I can have company without them being drunk, Johann. I have company all the time at home.”

“You, Johann storm, just wanted to get me thoroughly inebriated.”

Despite himself, he giggled, especially as Hannah poked him to prove her laborious point.  The wine was working - though he could see it was affecting the petite witch at a faster rate than he.

"No, not me." Johann replied quietly, still grinning.

Hannah frowned and took another large sip of wine.
“Pub...drunk...company.” She shook her head and laughed slightly. “I can have company without them being drunk, Johann. I have company all the time at home.”

"Oh?" Johann asked, "And it was drink, company, I'm not half as addled as you seem to be." He tentatively returned the prod, which felt awful strange to do. Hannah felt warm and soft to the end of his fingertip.
"Am I keeping you from the company at home? I thought you only had an appointment with your bed Dr Bombay?" Johann used her name with emphasis, being cheeky by phrasing it that way, as if someone with such a title shouldn't be behaving in such a way ordinarily.

Looking from Hannah to the wine, he added,
"Yes, my turn... again. Thank Merlin for small jobs." His eyes slid back. "Plenty of time to buy another... let's see how this one slides perhaps."

He shifted his chair slightly towards Hannah as someone intruded on his personal space on the other side and brushed elbows with her, uttering an automatic apology even though it had just be a brush of his jacket rather than planting an elbow in her arm.

It wouldn't do to get her completely legless, would it, Johann thought, as he avoided looking after people like the plague. If they had the plague, then he'd move counties, cut ties... Still, it seemed like she needed it, and it was some time since he'd woken up forgetting what happened the night before. Scared him horribly when it happened, but he somehow didn't care at that moment. The whole feeling of getting fuzzy with alcohol took the apprehension away and lured him into sweet oblivion.

Addled? If anyone was ‘addled’ in such a manner, Hannah was positive that her it was not. She grinned, a grin that would never appear on her sober, serious features and shook her head, wavy hair falling over her shoulders in a curly mess. Things were getting a little hard to focus on now. This was why the woman looked so intently at her companion, leaning forwards against the table. He poked her and she made a decidedly belated attempt to knock his hand away.

“I do.” The woman smiled somewhat flirtatiously at her companion and lifted her glass to her lips once more, taking a long gulp. To the petite healer, it didn’t seem strong. Yet she knew very little about alcohol. She didn’t drink and therefore it was somehow unexplainable how she’d ended up in a groggy wizarding pub getting steadily more intoxicated with an older German wizard. In the last week, however, the petite healer had been doing a lot of things she wouldn’t usually do.

Then, Johann scooted closer and Hannah leant her body sidewards against him before poking his arm. “And it’s not Doctor anymore, Johann. Just...” She frowned and took a sip of wine. “just Hannah.”Her right hand swept across the table in front of them as if indicating the name written on it. Light brown eyes stared at where the name should have been for a few moments. “Just Hannah.”

Hannah looked back at her friend and smiled. His cheeks were a little rosy. Light brown eyes met dark blue before her body leant closer and her lips gently brushed his. She paused for a moment before leaning into him more, pressing her lips against the wizard’s more forcefully.

“And it’s not Doctor anymore, Johann. Just... just Hannah.” Johann was transfixed a moment by Hannah transformed by alcohol. It was intriguing. He tapped the wine glass stem between his fingers and nodded in agreement to her.
“Just Hannah.”

"I understand." Johann spoke softly, humouring her with his tone, pace and smile.

Hannah returned the smile, and Johann felt glad she was genuinely happy after looking so stressed earlier that day while he'd made smart jokes about antlers. They shared a moment of eye contact, before Hannah closed the gap unexpected. Her lips gently brushed his, and he froze, both in mind and body. What on... earth...

It took a moment for Johann's mind to register shock, and he almost upset his wine glass, hands reaching up to gently and then firmly inch Hannah back away from him, putting an abrupt end to the kiss. Her shoulders were warm, quite relaxed to the touch, and her hair tickled over the backs of his hands and long fingers which gripped her robes.

"Hannah, Hannah, I er..." He hastily fumbled for appropriate words, and patted her shoulders. He could taste the wine from her lips, which was fresher than his and smell it too, mixed with cinnamon, a scent which usually followed her, and recognisably her to Johann.

Her lips had been warm, and the whole moment had brought thoughts spiralling back from Denmark and the story he had recounted to Georg, Ignan, Tapendra... and also present at the time, Georgiana. A complete stranger, wife of a client, had turned on him and purposely kissed him to frame him as her lover. That had been forceful, horrific, but what had just occurred was entirely different and reminiscent of the poor girl who had inflicted herself on living with him for a while. The one he'd never quite been able to work out what he was meant to do with...

"I er, think its time to go home." Johann told Hannah, and for a moment wondered if she'd resist, so he repeated it more forcefully.
"Home, Hannah. Now. Come on, let's get your coat..." To his horror, three wizards sat by the bar nearby laughed.
"Oi, oi!" Sweet Merlin. Johann shot them a filthy look. That was not what he meant... but in a moment of consideration, he figured it couldn't harm.

Helping Hannah to her feet and drawing her cloak around her, he slid his arm around her waist, albeit a little awkwardly.
"Hell, where do you live?" He suddenly uttered. In al the time he'd known her, she'd never once given him her address, nor had he had any reason to try and pickpocket or find it out. He was utterly useless!

The kiss had barely begun before it was stopped via a seemingly abrupt space being made between the couple. Hannah’s lips parted and her hazy eyes shot between Johann’s lips and one of his large hands, placed on her shoulder....patting it. She blinked in confusion. What kind of man patted the shoulder of a woman trying to kiss him? A weird one, Hannah decided in her slowly functioning brain, an extremely weird one.

"I er, think its time to go home."

The woman lifted her hand to her lips, fingers grazing it before she looked up at the man that was speaking much more hurriedly. Oh...she knew why. A cheeky smile formed on her lips for probably the first time in many years as she pushed herself up from the seat. He didn’t waste time did he? But did she want him to waste time? Hannah looked down at the glass of drink, considering her present actions. But her somewhat presently delirious mind couldn’t process such complicated analytical thoughts.

He wanted them to go home. "Come on, let's get your coat..." The healer let out a small giggle as he helped her over and wrapped the cloak around her body. She looked up to him, head craning to allow for the foot different in their heights. “You’re quick, Johann.” She grinned after slurring slightly, feeling his hand slip around her waist.

"Hell, where do you live?"

Another giggle escaped the healer’s lips and she turned around in his arm to face Johann, her heels clicking on the flagstone floor. Hands slithered up his chest to find the man’s open collar and as she played with the shirt. Hannah’s eyes looked up to his playfully. “Do you ask all the girls you ask to go out for a drink that, Mr Storm?” She shook her head and unsteadily stepped back. She was making sense wasn’t she? “I’m not one of those girls, you know.”

Johann was a little surprised as Hannah turned and faced him. They were meant to be going towards the door, or the fireplace, or anywhere out of here.

What was she, Merlin, where was she --- Hannah clasped his collar, bringing them closer again, despite the fact he was quite a bit taller than her. She pulled authoritatively on it, causing him to stoop ever so slightly. Once again their eyes met, and Johann wasn't quite sure what he saw in them - it was a foreign expression of longing applied to him, and he found his face twisting into confusion.

“Do you ask all the girls you ask to go out for a drink that, Mr Storm?” She shook her head and unsteadily stepped back. Johann automatically caught her with the hand he still had reached around her waist, bringing them closer again with the smell of cinnamon right under his nose.
“I’m not one of those girls, you know.”

"Ah, no... no... not all the girls." Johann replied tentatively, and smiled at Hannah, adding his other arm behind her back, so that he had his arms around her properly. It felt rather odd, but he feared she was about to fall over at any moment.
"Not one of those girls?" Johann asked, not quite understanding what she meant, and his response coming across quite the opposite. "Of course your not Hannah, you're quite different."

He meant on an intellectual level, but however Hannah was interpreting it, he wasn't sure. She still had hold of his collar, he had her arms around her, and... if he was brutally honest... something buried deep which had hardly ever seen the light of day within his odd personality was rather enjoying this. Not that Johann recognised it as that - he put it down to drink, heat and worry for Hannah's well being, not physical attraction at all.

Leaning down a little to emphasise the point and make better eye contact, Johann repeated.
"Well, I'll just have to take you home then. Not sure you'd get back there in one piece alone." They touched foreheads a moment, and Johann let out a little sigh, half closing his eyes, thinking about how he was currently lodging in a room in Gabrielle's large house, and the last thing she'd expect would be for Johann to bring someone else home, especially of the opposite gender. Keep strange hours, yes, but ... inebriated female visitors... he'd have to cross that new bridge. Hell, she'd understand.

"Right, come on. I don't think I can stand here like this any longer." He told Hannah sincerely, looking her straight in the eyes. He meant, he was going to sidealong apparate her... of course... er...

A small amount of memory loss later...

Hannah Bombay was in the habit of presenting herself as a professional young witch who was ruled by her own intelligence. She spoke only when she had something sensible and of importance to say and remembered practically everything she had either said, done or had said or done to her. She didn’t do things to compromise this opinion of her and let very few people, if anyone close enough to see her in a different light.

This morning? Hannah Bombay lay stretched across the centre of a large double bed. Her face was planted in the pillow as she lay on her front, tiny limbs reaching out to each corner of the bed. It was impressive how much space such a small woman could take up. She breathed slow and lightly and lay still, as if dead like one her unfortunate victims. The duvet had been placed over her sleeping corpse and she lay unmoving.

The young woman finally rolled over in the bed, eliciting a small groan as her eyes eased open ever so slightly. Bang, bang, bang... Her hand found her head as she tried to focus past the noise coming from somewhere. Makeup smeared features screwed up and she winced, sensing something similar to the sensation one would receive having a lumos cast directly into their eyes. Where the hell was she?

Hands planted themselves on the mattress and the groggy, confused healer pushed herself into a seated position. Why did her head hurt so much? Why were things spinning sickeningly? Her hand covered her eyes for a moment as she tried to overcome the need to throw up. Hannah Bombay never threw up. She had to get past this. It took a few moments and she began to survey her surroundings from the bed.

This wasn’t her room. This wasn’t her home. It was busy. It was messy. Where the hell was she? Hannah’s stomach lurched and the pale woman put a hand over her mouth, focusing on holding it down. Now was certainly not the time to have a weak stomach.

Hannah had just about made it back to the Murray-Harker residence. Johann had decided it was best to take her to his rooms within Gabrielle's expansive home than to attempt to find out where Hannah lived and deal with any wards. Staggering in through his door, luckily without anyone seeing them (other than he suspected, the imp) he had been faced with the prospect of a stupor Hannah. Not even pausing to consider taking off her shoes, he'd managed to lift her onto his bed, looking at yet another night of not sleeping, merely because it was occupied.

He'd stared at her for a moment, perching on the edge of the bed wondering if she might wake with the distant smell of him on the sheets, or the warmth, and then had pulled the covers over her, propping her head on the pillows, her hair spilling out like ink across them.

It was several hours later that he heard a stirring and thought to look over his shoulder from his desk. The sun had risen and spilled into the room, tumbling over piles of books in slightly haphazard piles filled with journals of people, places, history and language. Johann had collected them from Gabrielle's house, borrowed them from Ministry collections, bought quite a number. He habitually read and researched even for personal pleasure. Pieces of parchment hung out of several of the larger books as markers and notes. Newspapers littered the floor between them, not only Daily Prophets, but sister papers in Europe, America, and curious looking papers that folded themselves up and fluttered.

By Johann's desk were a set of stout leather looking boxes with documents in, the lid of one of which was off and the linguist filing translations alongside originals within it. These belonged to Vedir, and if Hannah was waking up, the lids were getting sealed back on again, as they always were unless Johann was the only person in the room working on them. He couldn't dare let Gabrielle know what was in some of those documents, as strictly speaking, the Department would want to investigate Vedir immediately.

Looking past the bedside table which had a bottle of sleeping potion empty on, and also three origami cranes (a diversion Johann had for his fingers while thinking) he saw Hannah's head turn and regard her surroundings. How curious to watch someone wake. Removing his hands from the box, he replaced the lid quietly and ran his wand tip around the edge muttering softly to add the sealing charm. He was still wearing yesterday's clothes, having not wanted to change in Hannah's presence or leave her alone for longer than it took to relieve himself.

"Good morning." He greeted Hannah in an upbeat manner. "Sleep well?" Hoping up from his seat, he crouched beside the bed and folded his arms either side of him on the top of the duvet, lacing his fingers under his chin.
"We had a very good night after all!" Johann grinned boyishly, his eyes keen on Hannah's expression as she lay in his bed.

"Good morning" came an upbeat remark from besides her and the groggy healer’s heart stopped momentarily. She recognised that voice perfectly and feared looking around but to see any expression on his face. What in Merlin’s name had occurred? She needed to get her head together. She needed to think of a sensible response to stop her looking so idiotic but all that was plaguing her mind was the banging against her temples, the photosensitivity she was currently experiencing and the thoughts of what had perhaps occurred the preceding night.

A very good night... Hannah’s lips parted as she stared ahead. She couldn’t look at him. But she did look down. Clothed. Nothing could have happened. Nothing could have happened, then. It wouldn’t have. He was...Johann Storm. He was the linguist that asked her about corpses over a a sandwich instead of the stud that poured her wine and took her to bed. A messy bed. The healer’s lips twitched ever so slightly as she took in what was before her. Chaos. A chaotic abundance of parchments and books.

 “Certainly.” Hannah stated unconvincingly. She was in no way prepared to admit a loss of memory. Right now the last thing she remembered was being sat in the Leaky Cauldron with a glass of wine. It must have been something she’d eaten to make her feel so...odd.

The healer finally turned her head to look down at the man crouched by the bed. She offered him an evidently uncomfortable tight lipped smile before taking in the clothes he was wearing. How completely bizarre. “Do you have any nausea potion?” She’d definitely eaten something that hadn’t agreed with her. There was simply no other explanation.

"Nausea potion?" Johann repeated, eyes rising to recall the content of the cupboard in the adjoining bathroom. "I'll check for you." He patted the bed momentarily and jumped up in his quirky, sprightly nature, seemingly unfatigued by yet another night of no sleep.

Vanishing into the adjoining room, he rifled through seven types of sleeping potion and some other essentials, and chanced upon a bottle. Uncorking it he gave it a suspicious sniff (one could never be too careful) and recalled he must have bought it in England, the writing was in English. Returning to the other room, he greeted cheerily,

"You're in luck." Dropping down on the side of the bed, tucking one leg beneath him beside Hannah in bed, he held out the brown bottle, not thinking to offer her a glass. After all, Hannah hadn't been too worried about sharing his saliva last night by pinning her lips to him.

"Last night's wine giving you a bad head?" Johann asked with a smirk, "Didn't think we'd make it back to your place, glad we got back here though, even if you almost undressed me before we got here..." He meant because Hannah had been holding onto him to stay upright and she'd almost dragged his coat off him, but hadn't elaborated such, not realising Hannah was oblivious to anything past talking and drinking wine the previous night.

Johann storm was too happy. Too putrefyingly happy and that only made Hannah want to vomit even more. She didn’t know why he was so happy. Heck, she didn’t want to know why he was so happy. She didn’t engage in such acts with anyone at the present and the thought that she had while intoxicated with a friend made her feel more ill than any hangover ever could. He bounced up with the spring of a March hare and trotted off through a door, leaving the healer staring dumbfounded at the door he’d vanished through.

In his extremely short absence Hannah has seriously contemplated one of two options. The first was to submerge herself under the covers and hide, letting them swallow her into oblivion to avoid further humiliation and embarrassment. The second option was to abscond with a quick flick of her wand and an apparation charm. As it was, the first option was pathetic and childish and the second attempt required a wand. At the present moment she wasn’t aware of that essential item’s whereabouts.

The healer was still in a state of shock. Hung-over shock. This was why she didn’t elicit a murmur of thanks upon being offered the potion. And quite uncharacteristically of her, she took the potion and without checking its contents, lifted it to her lips, taking a couple of gulps. If she died right now at least the pain in her head would be gone. All would still be well and no one would really miss her.

"Didn't think we'd make it back to your place, glad we got back here though, even if you almost undressed me before we got here..." The linguist on the bed beside her boasted happily. She stared at him, her expression revealing the horrified thoughts processing through her mind at the present time. She didn’t remember that. Why didn’t she remember such a thing? Hannah would have remembered such an extremely uncharacteristic occurrence.

It took a few moments to stop staring at the man with her lips parted and eyes wide in dumbfounded shock. Her mind was processing things at a tenth its usual speed. “...you look dressed to me.” Well done Hannah. Such a splendidly intelligent response!

"So do you?" Johann replied quizzically, folding his other leg up on the bed to sit cross legged beside Hannah and smiling.

It was strange to have someone else sleeping in his bed, but reminded him of sitting on his parent's bed as a child talking to his mother on some occasions. She still worried for him now, writing letters, which he replied to as sanely as he could, that life in Britain was fine, mundane, he was happy. To a point it was, he didn't want to worry her either.

"You certainly sleep well, don't you?" He changed tact, "I don't, haven't slept a wink since, however tempting it was to attempt to lie here with you all night, too much on my mind." He ruffled his curly black hair and yawned.

"I don't suppose you'll be wanting breakfast if you're drinking that." Johann mused, "Hope you're not working on a Saturday now..."

This was getting worse and worse. Hannah felt as if she was steadily falling into a pit of debauchery and memory loss. That certainly wasn’t a good mix. But her and Johann sat on a bed first thing in the morning after she’d just woken up from alcohol induced memory loss. Hannah liked this situation as much as she liked the prospect of being used as a toothpick for a Hungarian horntail. In fact, the toothpick idea sounded more inviting right now as the young witch looked away from her ‘friend’ to seek out her robes and shoes with her hazy brown eyes.

"I don't suppose you'll be wanting breakfast if you're drinking that."

The now shocked healer let out a gasp of disbelief before pushing the sheets back off her confusingly clothed body and leapt from the bed. That was a bad move. Her hand gripped the nearest thing it could find and she ended up using this bookcase to steady herself while her brain coped with the new height and abrupt loss of blood. Her other hand covered her eyes as the world began to spin. This wasn’t good at all. Two Johann’s right now was quite literally the worst thing possible.

“You.” The woman began after a few moments to cope with the new standing position, “you are unbelievable.” The man had intoxicated her, dragged her back to his house, done whatever to her and now stated she didn’t even require breakfast. Not that she could even stomach it there and then. Hannah was positive she’d be seeing last night’s tea any time soon if the nausea potion didn’t kick in.

Hannah’s eyes found her robes which she snatched up and began to search the pockets hurriedly for her wand while bare feet crossed the room to the fireplace. “Don’t bother owling.” A handful of floo power was thrown onto the wood in the fireplace and Hannah stepped into the blue flames and vanished.

Alone in his room all of a sudden, sat cross-legged on the bed, Johann Storm blinked and frowned.

"What did I do?" He asked the fireplace which Hannah had just disappeared through.

Looking from the fireplace to his desk, his coat hung on the back of the door and the still warm bed where Hannah had been asleep, he raised his gaze again and thought about things, drawing his knees under his chin and wrapping his arms around them in a hug. Hannah was his friend, and now she was angry with him, and he had no idea why. For all his quick and clever mind, Johann had to admit she had him stumped for now.

Women really were weird creatures.