Before leaving the house, Hannah had stared at her reflection in the mirror for a long time. The young witch’s eyes, before tired and dull from overworking and stress about what was to come seemed to be brighter, more alert. They were no longer covered by her usual black glasses. Instead her sight had seemed to sharpen in the last couple of days. Her cheeks were rosy, bright and Hannah felt oddly flushed. She felt different, more alert. She no longer felt the need to be perfect and immaculate. She wanted to scream, shout, get close to a person and…things had changed in the past few days. It was the lead up. Hannah knew it. She knew what was going to come soon.

The bright, alert eyes scanned down further in the mirror to fall on the purple dress that perfectly framed her figure. At least that hadn’t changed. The dress material stopped at her shoulder and revealed a large scar that had formed in the absence of the wound, expanding and overtaking her forearm. As she looked at the offensive scar, the mirror revealed the woman’s lips purse in disgust. She had dealt with the wound on the 11th when she’d slipped out of the room. But now she was stuck with the obtrusive, ugly looking mark for the rest of her life. A constant reminder of what she now was.

Hannah had pulled her eyes away from the disfigurement on her forearm and tugged on a long cardigan to cover it from sight. No one knew, no one had seen it. She had no plans on telling anyone. She would handle this alone. And anyone that was close? She’d started to avoid them. After seeing Johann in her living room weeks before, Hannah had kept her distance, praying that another ambush at her front door didn’t occur. He was clever; he’d be able to tell things were different if he spent enough time around her. Hannah certainly didn’t need that right now.

But the healer had agreed to a date. Maybe it was the new feelings overwhelming her body that had made her agree. Or the lack of social contact she’d allowed herself to have despite work recently. Or perhaps to avoid the suspicion she was certain Mulogo had had when bumping into her in the apothecary purchasing ingredients for a very strong wolfsbane potion. Hannah decided not to over think it. She had to take her mind off her worries for the full moon. She had to focus on something else if only for an evening.

And this was why the young witch was slowly approaching the restaurant from the alley she’d apparated into. Her lips pursed in thought as she walked, heels clicking on the pavement. Azize Mulogo, as far as Bombay was aware, was a lovely man. He seemed friendly, a romantic and handsome. Her brain questioned if she should be doing this right now. It wasn’t fair on him to lie. But her body, senses keen, aroused and excited propelled her forwards to the entrance of the establishment.

Azize had been doing his best lately not to make himself a target when it wasn't necessary, or when aurors weren't around, so he'd taken to trying to get use to muggle restaurants and their more casual form of attire. So he wore a button down shirt with a blazer over it, and some nice pants, for his little date with Hannah Bombay.

 "Impressive," he beamed at Hannah with his thick tone, "being draped head-to-toe in lime green has not stifled your sense of fashion. Purple is quite charming on you." One hand was loosely hanging in his pocket as he admired her outfit and the other gesturing as he spoke. He knew, from experience, the doctor wasn't a run-of-the-mill pureblood woman, so he hadn't gotten to get to know whether she preferred to link arms while walking or to remain reserved--or gotten to know her at all really. A shame, whether or not people thought she was weird.

When they met, she was professional and efficient, despite his flirtatious efforts. On the other hand, he heard she was all over Johann Storm a while back, and the linguist had made himself too scarce lately for Azize to get a hold of him for the facts, he'd been acting suspiciously enough lately.

"Thought I ran you off from the Ministry since Valentine's," he continued as they neared the restaurant, then added in a sly mumble, "Or perhaps we were not as exciting as the recent Mungo cases?" he quickly gave a short chuckle and rolled on with more gentle and genuine care, "I am glad you are okay."

He pulled his hand from his pocket and pressed open the door for Hannah, guiding her into the restaurant,"just two," he said to the clerk, who gathered up their menus and took them to a quiet corner of the establishment.

Once they were seated he continued their conversation more casually, recounting his errand get some ingredients for a simple potion, "So are you a potioneer by trade or hobby?" He never had the chance to actually inquire about it the aconite she was buying, but he did get over the initial shock of the rather obvious werewolf ingredients she had. But after the recent havoc of the full moon, it wasn't surprising a healer was buying them for some reason or other. He didn't have any reason to accuse her of anything right then.

Typically, when given to Hannah, compliments were lost and somewhat pointless. Especially when they were in reference to her appearance. She occasionally appreciated remarks regarding her intelligence but not when it was in reference to how she looked or acted. This evening, however, the young witch smiled at her companion and moved closer. He was as handsome as ever, towering over her despite the heels she’d worn to bestow her extra height. Unfortunately Hannah was never going to be tall. She was never going to reach high things. She had become quite the specialist when it came to ‘Accio’.

Interesting cases...one could certainly say that St Mungo’s had that going for it. So much so that one case in particular would remain with her permanently. Nevertheless Hannah offered the tall man before her a small smile.
“I desired a change of scenery.” Hannah responded quietly as she stepped through the door into the restaurant in front of him. “Dealing with murder every day is rather disheartening if I were to honest.” She wasn’t being honest. The ministry hadn’t been able to afford her full time on top of all of the other law enforcement staff. Something had had to give and it had been her. And to say she was happy with the results of the redundancy was to be lying quite spectacularly. Not that the healer was about to spill her heart about it all to the man beside her. That would be far too personal and dangerous. There was a reason she hadn’t told a soul about the bite.

So they ventured further into the small restaurant behind the host and sat down. Azize wasted little time to query why she’d been in the apothecary. Hannah glanced up from the menu she was holding and frowned in thought for a moment as she studied his face with brown eyes, glowing tonight from the feelings the curse was suddenly enforcing on her.

“The aconite was for a friend.” She had one of those and he certainly wasn’t a werewolf. “I’ve always been skilled at potions so he requested I brew it due to the catastrophic problems at the ministry last month.” A believable tale which Hannah told perfectly calmly. And for some reason the lying was making her feel even more different. She felt like reaching across the table and kissing the man in front of her. It was a bizarre, strange and unknown feeling. And she hadn’t even had a drop of alcohol!

Hannah leant forwards on the table, resting her elbows on the cloth. A flirtatious grin began to play on her rouged lips as she watched Azize carefully. “I’m glad I agreed to help him because I happened to bump into you.”

Azize gave a short chuckle, "Oh?" He was actually mildly perplexed at the woman. When they first met she was strictly business while ordering him to nearly-strip, and today he'd barely done anything and she was flirting. He couldn't imagine a job change, or a month or so, would explain her change in mood, that could explain the rumor of her being all over Johann, but he could get back to that at a more appropriate time.

Regardless at how odd it was the African couldn't help but entertain the flirtatious remark, "If you make a habit of it I can't guarantee that I won't steal you away," his Nigerian accent dipped with a playful smirk, "Miss Bombay."

"I suppose it shouldn't be a surprise that the witch who made a cauldron an explosive hazard has plenty the skill to brew some Wolfsbane," he waived his hand at a waiter glancing their direction, while still adressing Hannah, "Do you have a specialty, or do you have an ambition to master everything as you go?"  He turned to the waiter as he walked up, "Malbec and a Caesar salad," he wanted a good wine to go with his meaty appetite that night.

The waiter turned his head from Mulogo and directed his gaze to Hannah. She glanced down at the menu, lips pursed for a moment.
“I’ll have the steak.” There wasn’t exactly much choice there. For the past few days all Hannah had wanted to devour was steak. Meat. Rare, red meat. The rarer, the bloodier, the better. A month ago the very thought of devouring such fleshy food had been horrible. She hadn’t had a massive appetite. But ever since she’d been bitten all she’d wanted to do was eat. Her potion sizes and the frequency of her meals had doubled and she was constantly hungry. Yet amazingly, she hadn’t seemed to put on any weight. It was as if the extra consumption was feeding the wolf within. The thought disgusted the healer yet she simply continued to eat.

“And how would madam like that cooked?” The waiter queried in an overly ridiculous accent.

The impulsive feeling in Hannah urged her to say ‘not’. But she subdued that urge and instead responded slightly less strangely. “Rare. With chips, salad and some onion rings on the side.” The waiter raised an eyebrow and Hannah gave him a small smile before glancing at Azize. “And make the Malbec a bottle.” Wine, Hannah did happen to remember was a bad idea to drink around certain people. Hopefully, Azize wasn’t one of those certain people. Besides, she felt different right now. Not as uptight as her usual self. She could enjoy a glass of wine and not worry about the outcome.

With the waiter now having swept off with their order, Hannah let her attention fall back on her companion for the evening. “I never apologised for the explosion. You weren’t unbearably partial to that suit were you?” The witch attempted to look honestly apologetic but the corners of her lips tweaked up into a smirk. “I would have offered to pay for a new suit and robes but it was in principle your blunder. You distracted me from my work.”

Azize's faced relaxed quizzically and furrowed, as the, once reserved--now flirtatious, witch turned the Malbec into a bottle, ordered meat (rare), with fried food as a side. The African man wasn't guiltless of sneaking a few nice fried snacks, but muggle food didn't have the care elves or wizards put into their cooking; unless it was some strange muggle specialty on certain ways to cook noodles, their food was of sporadic quality, at best. 

So before the waiter ran off Azize put in his main meal and turned to retort to Hannah once they were alone again, "Well if I am to be held responsible for being such a distraction to break the focus of an ever-studious witch," he leaned into the table with a glint of a smirk, "Then I simply will have to accept full responsibility for it."

"A new suit is no issue for me," he waved off the comment, "but I do recall you had some ruined robes as well." He leaned back in his seat smiling at the ceiling and feigned a play of dread in his voice, "I do not mind enduring a shopping trip for new ones," he paused and then lingered his gaze back at his companion, "Or for other needs and wishes you concoct on the way."

Spoiling and flirting with women came as second nature to the African as magic did, but even though Hannah Bombay was seemed to be enjoying herself, the oddities presenting themselves in the witch's behavior started to worry him, especially after the series of events that haunted March.

"You know, muggles do not marinate their meat or spice their food like we do?" his eyes tracked across the room to the kitchens and then back to Bombay with a soft smile, "Are you sure you don't want something else, Hannah?" he finished with a hint of concern.

Azize seemed as at ease around women as Hannah did with the deceased. He smirked at her remark and reclined contentedly when he feigned dread at what was to come. Hannah’s eyebrow cocked suspiciously and she leaned forward, resting her arms on the table. Did he just propose to take her shopping in apology for the cauldron disaster? Hannah didn’t make a habit of going on dates. In fact, before this she had never had a social engagement that she could confidently label a date. But surely offering a shopping trip wasn’t how it tended to go. As far as the young witch was aware, one met the person, they had dinner and if they drank enough wine then they returned to a chosen datee’s home for what she’d heard referred to as a ‘night cap’.

The healer frowned in mild confusion. “There’s no need to worry over that. I’m quite used to destroying robes in my profession.” There was truly no need to reimburse her for the damages her own explosive cauldron experiment had caused to her. It was very nice of him, but completely unnecessary. A small smile tweaked the corners of the young witch’s lips. “I do appreciate your offer though.”

"Are you sure you don't want something else, Hannah?"

“It’s food.” Bombay stated plainly. “I don’t spice it or play with it. I eat it.” The witch smiled as if that was it. Why exactly would she want something else when she had just ordered what she actually wanted? Hannah watched Azize for a moment before her eyebrows rose with realisation and she leaned forward further.

“I’d only want to change my mind if there was something exquisite on the menu to tickle my fancy, Azize.”

Azize sat up straight again when Hannah declined a shopping trip wit his eyebrows raised, pleasantly surprised. And then he answered his concerns about the food, believably, but something was still nagging at the tall dark wizard; But he continued to smile and keep a bemused demeanor, "Well if you have a change of heart--" the African was about to finish with 'about either' but Miss Bombay took the pause to interject her own interpretation.

• “I’d only want to change my mind if there was something exquisite on the menu to tickle my fancy, Azize.”

His thick lips pursed his lips into a peeling smile, and quirky curiosity, although he started to feel like he was being cornered into more than he bargained for; Perhaps he was missing a fantastic joke or jest, or she was being a horrible tease, but Azize felt fairly confident that she wasn't referring to their dinner anymore.

It was flattering, exciting, and worrisome. The diplomat was hardly innocent-minded, but he was ingrained with etiquette, moral conduct, and his gut. Women were confusing, Azize Mulogo would be the first to admit it, and no matter what a man thought he did 'right' by 'her,' wouldn't change a thing if everything went wrong.

So Azize followed what was right by him; if him and Hannah were heading towards something intimate by the end of the date, he'd handle it then, but he wasn't ready to jump to conclusions, as ignorant as that might be for him. So, rather than back down, he rose to the retort, "Really?" he hovered himself over the table while rubbing his jaw, "Do we need to start adding to the menu then?" a brow arched and he squinted his eyes critically, with an entertaining smile playing on his lips,  "Or do I need to makeup own, to hand over for your approval?"

His eyes flicked to the server who finally brought the bottle of wine and filled up two glasses for the both of them, before departing again.

He was flirting back. Or at least Hannah was under the assumption that was what it was. She hadn’t exactly had much experience in the art of flirting. Most people to come into contact with Hannah Bombay thought she was pretty, but pretty focused and weird. She wasn’t the kind of young woman they had wanted to spend an extended amount of time in the company of. Which was why she’d been so surprised by Azize’s suggestion. And she hadn’t even taken note of the flowers he’d brought her on the 14th of February. The exploded cauldron and its damage had taken her attention. She didn’t recognise flirtatious advances. Until the last few days when they’d had a particular affect on her.

“Perhaps we should give your selection of restaurant the benefit of a doubt.” The young witch smirked as she glanced at the wine being poured carefully into her glass. “You’ll see if I approve afterwards.”

And so the food had been...average. The company had been above average. It was rare to find adequate company when you only expected the highest standard. When you only wanted conversation and to spend time with someone who’s brain ability didn’t resemble that of a troll. This was why Hannah had one close friend. Johann, like her was intelligent. He spent his time reading and observing other people’s actions, emotions, lives. He was nosy. Hannah just saw them for their bodies, their health. She rarely saw the person behind the injury, the illness or the skin. They seemed to make a satisfactory pairing for friends.

Yet Azize provided a welcome change. He was clever, charming and handsome. And Hannah, at this particular moment in time, was fairly disposed to falling for the charm. She’d already felt strange enough before leaving her apartment but now after spending time with the handsome wizard and drinking a glass and a half of wine, she was certainly acting out of character. The reclusive witch who acted older than her years had been pushed into a box and the flirtier, 20 something witch had come out for the evening.

“I must admit, Mister Mulogo,” Hannah began as she lifted the wineglass to her lips “perhaps I should have taken your advice.” She drained the final sip from her glass and smiled across at him. “Muggles cook food like first year hufflepuffs brew potions.”

As their evening went on, Azize found his worries about the other witch disappeared as she started to enjoy herself more and more, even with the lackluster meal. The wine, of course, probably made the evening a bit more casual, and it always loosened up the Ministry official enough to break him of a few social graces.

Once he sipped another glass of wine, of course, Hannah compared muggle cooking to first year Huffepuffs, and he had to drop his gaze, withdraw his glass from his lips and replace it with a fist, while choking down his wine before snuffing out a chuckle, "Sounds criminal." It was all he could muster out before recovering from the sudden rush of amusement.

His dark eyes landed on Hannah again as he gathered his wits with a smile, "Next time I will have to treat you to my own cooking, and hope it makes up for this rubbish," he leaned back in his chair and took another sip of his wine before he admitted with an unstoppable grin, "But I'm such a fan of my own grilling, if you are too harsh, I'm not sure how I could go on."

The comment hadn’t exactly been intended to cause such an amused reaction. Nevertheless Hannah smiled across the table at the handsome wizard who was currently covering his mouth with his fist as he choked on the wine. He looked as if he’d just partaken of a first year Hufflepuff’s potion. Despite her amusement at his response, Hannah watched her companion carefully. Ever the healer, she wanted to make sure he wasn’t going to keel over and die. That would certainly be an unattractive end to a lovely evening. She quite liked Azize after all.

Fortunately the diplomat got his breath back and suggested he cook for Hannah. The woman’s lips twisted into a smirk as she watched him suspiciously over her oversized wine glass.

“Well you’re going to have to give it your best then, Mr Mulogo.” The young witch began, placing her now empty wine glass down on the table. “I don’t think I could bear being seen in public with a wizard after he’s had his ego shattered.”

After a short moment, Hannah pushed her chair back from the table and began to push herself up onto her feet. “I only stand for perfection.” And Hannah had little doubt Azize Mulogo would provide it. Yet she could still tease him about it. Especially after she’d had a few drinks. Hannah was in fact coping remarkably better with the wine consumption than she had a month ago with Johann.

Half way to her feet, Hannah paused and glanced across the table at her date, hands resting on the solid wood. Before she could spare a second thought she leant forwards, planting her lips on the wizard’s own and kissing him softly, strands of her wavy hair tickling his chin. A few seconds later and she pulled away, biting her lip.
“Owl me when you’re ready to damage that ego.” Bombay said softly as she stood up straight on her tall heels. She didn’t, however, wait to see his reaction to the kiss and instead began to walk slowly to the door.

Azize smiled as he folded open the bill for the evening, "So harsh, but I rise to the challenge," and he reached into his blazer to pull out a wad of muggle paper money, breaking contact with the teasing witch to check the amount owed and flick through to add up the slips of colorful paper.

Then he caught her leaning closer out of the corner of his eyes, and paused in counting and lifted his gaze, dazed. Her lips were meshed up against his, her hair brushing up against his face, her feminine aroma... he enjoyed it, wanted to respond, but then she pulled away.

His face glowed with enthusiasm, pride, and his thoughts immediately focused entirely on the woman, following her, seeing her out, then he realized he was still holding money... to pay the bill, and he had lost the number he was suppose to match on the small ticket of paper. So he put that to work quickly, paid the bill, left a tip, and left the table; Hannah had just walked out the door.

With a height advantage his stride got him to the door much quicker, and he was sure that he was right behind her and pushed open the door--but she was gone.

"Damn, she's fast," the wizard mumbled in stupefied awe. He'd have to find some other method to retriever her address then.