In the distance the sound of a bell rang through the air. Once again silence returned for a few moments. A knocking sound began first distant, quiet. It was little more than a murmur. But the knocking seemed to get closer. The bell once again began to ring, steadily getting louder until the knocking and the bell began to build into a powerful and startlingly loud crescendo. A groan was elicited from the woman on the sofa as the noise began to awaken her. It seemed louder than nature could create. Everything seemed louder, more vivid.

One light brown eye opened cautiously. The witch’s brow furrowed her forehead creasing as her second eye opened. She took in a slow breath, steadying herself as the knocking occurred once more. It was as if the fist outside the door was instead banging on the young witch’s skull. She winced and sat up. A stiff, painful arm lifted up and her hand felt her head. Well nothing was knocking it there. Her hair was dry, brittle, sticking out in various directions but nothing was banging her head.

And oh how she ached. Hannah felt as if something had ripped her body apart. A wolf had ripped her body apart. And the knocking continued. The witch opened her mouth to shout something to the person hassling her door but nothing came out. Her throat was dry.

Another attempt to call out resulted in a dry whine and the witch gave up, instead blindly grabbing for a jumper which she pulled on over her aching head and allowed the wooly material to swamp her upper body. A blurry hand reached out to the coffee table as she unsteadily stood up. The hand clamped the pair of glasses that she needed again after the transformation and she began to walk slowly, bleary eyed to the door.

It was lucky the woman didn’t look in the mirror yet. She’d dragged herself home several hours ago and hadn’t been able to bear looking at her own reflection. If she had she’d have seen her own ghostly white face with a few thin scratches across it. The tired, hollow, red eyes. The odd leaf and twig stuck in her hair. Her chest, bare legs below the shorts and arms had bruises on and her entire body screamed out to her in pain. Yet somehow Hannah did manage to approach the door and she managed to pull it open with great effort.

As she pulled the door back to see who was attacking the wood, Hannah pushed her glasses on. The man in front of her came into clear focus and the woman’s heart sank. She should have expected this from not showing up to work.

“I did owl yesterday.” A croaky voice escaped as the witch eyed her boss carefully.

Jason waited impatiently at the door, his fist raising again to bang against it. Her excuse had been poorly conceived in the letter they received, and it had been a little too close to her shift start. Everyone had been expected to show up or be available for work, just in case things went horribly wrong again and they needed hands on deck. But his newest addition to his unit had bailed, feigning a cold.

His frustration might have also been heightened due to other things bothering him in his personal life, though he tried to keep that at bay. The bang-bang-bang sounded throughout the hallway, the unmoving door shouting his thud back at him. Jason was about to leave for help—what if she was in trouble in there?—when he heard the door unlocked. An inhale of relief passed over him and he frowned as the door was opened.

What he saw was not what he had been growing accustomed to seeing at work. Blinking, frowning, he took in her appearance quick enough, pausing at the leaf sticking out near her temple. Licking his lips, he noticed the bruises with concern, not sure where to go now that she had actually answered his pounding.

Finally he looked back to her face, catching her eye. “What happened?” He wasn’t talking about her letter. Clearly this was more than just a cold. Glancing around, he moved towards the doorway, just a step. “Did someone hurt you?” He was a mandated reporter, and he looked out for others. Judging by her appearance, it was clear something… not right had happened. And Jason was assuming that someone else had been the cause of the battered look she was giving him.

A look of confused concern washed over the man’s expression and Hannah’s lips pursed in mild perplexity. The banging on the door had been harassed, seemingly angry and determined. The man stood in front of her look surprised and worried not angry and critical. Blue eyes paused near her temple and Hannah instinctively raised a sore and exhausted arm to where his eyes had momentarily rested. Thin fingers clasped at something that felt oddly like a leaf. The healer’s eyes widened ever so slightly as she pulled it out of the tangled mess that she had the misfortune to call hair.

For the first time that morning, the urge struck Hannah to look in a mirror. She hadn’t wanted to before, fearful for what would face her. She had woken naked in the woods, scratches covering her legs, found her clothes and wand, gotten dressed and apparated home to collapse on the sofa in pajama shorts and a jumper. All she still wanted was sleep. And now to get rid of her boss. The young witch certainly didn’t need any questions to be asked. Her brain wasn’t exactly functioning at its usual capacity and she was bad enough with human contact when it was.

“What happened?”

Marren queried as Hannah brought her arm down. Tired eyes wandered from his and to the leaf in her hand. That was going to be fun to explain. ‘I have a cold’ just wasn’t going to satisfy his inquisitive mind anymore. Witches and wizards with simple colds didn’t sprout leaves from their heads. They took a simple potion and were fine.

“Of course not.” Hannah responded croakily to Marren’s second question. She lifted a hand to her mouth and coughed slightly, hoping it would help. “The ministry requested my assistance for the full moon last night. I’m obliged to provide it.” Despite the fact that Marren had stepped closer and that Hannah had an intense dislike for the invasion of personal space, the short witch didn’t move. She also decided to attempt to ignore the nearly foot difference between her barefooted self and the six foot giant.

“It’s all on a classified basis. Hence the owl and the pitiful explanation for my absence.” With that, Hannah slowly placed a hand on the door ready to close it. “I will see you tomorrow, Sir.”

He watched the confusion wash over her face at the leaf. Jason didn’t think it was in his best interest to point out the thin stick coming from somewhere near the back of her head. She would feel that one eventually… or catch it on something. As angry as he’d been for his newest employee not showing up for one of the bigger days to work her shift, he was more concerned now, seeing her appearance.

It wasn’t usual that he showed up on his employees’ doorsteps to talk about disciplinary action. He didn’t think it was even… what he should be doing. But something had felt odd about it, the letter being so late… so rushed. She had come across as a young woman who wasn’t late for most things, unless she meant to be. And she didn’t respond to urgent owls, not that she necessarily had to, being sick… and she didn’t come in that morning. Then Jason saw her like this, and his mind did an ‘ah-hah, you were right to suspect something.’ He just wasn’t sure what that something was yet.

He felt relief when she disregarded someone hurting her. There were a lot of papers to fill out when someone was abused. Not that he thought it was a way to get out of paperwork; if it needed to be done, then it needed to be done. It was ok to be relieved, though. In his head.

He frowned, slight confusion evident as he processed her new excuse. “So why tell me anything now when you could have saved time and mentioned that yesterday?” He was ready to knock loudly again on her door if she shut it. “Or they should have let me know, considering you are scheduled to work at the hospital.” Her excuse didn’t seem very thorough.

“Who could I contact to find out more? At this point, you’re still on probationary period at the hospital, and missing any sort of work is greatly frowned upon. But if someone can vouch for it…” He shrugged and gave her his best attempt at a small smile—innocent in that my-hands-are-tied sort of way. Which they kind of were.

Much to Hannah Bombay’s displeasure, Marren wasn’t shifting. He stubbornly remained stood on her doorstep and didn’t look like he was going to back down any time soon. She had to give him credit for persistence no matter how much she entirely disliked this trait at the present. He had to leave and back off and let her recover from the ordeal of the night before. Hannah was in great discomfort, her whole body ached and the very smell of food or drink made her want to bring up the contents of her stomach. Not that there were any. She’d already done that this morning. Apparently an entire transformation of one’s body, including the vital organs ruined even the strongest of stomach’s ability to keep things down.

The first question left the usually intelligent and clever witch silent, simply watching him carefully. She cursed her brain for its exhaustion as she tried to focus, to solidify her excuse and to keep him from prying any further. Even when she was fine she had never been able to lie though. She had simply told the truth plainly and bluntly, regardless of its affect on a person. Her first practice of lying had simply come in the form of omission. No one needed to know about this curse. If they did she was in great trouble. More people would find out. Who would trust a werewolf to heal them? Who would hire a werewolf?

“You were aware of my other commitments when I was taken on, Sir.” The young witch stated calmly before she put a hand over her mouth. Her stomach was churning horribly. Why did this have to make her feel so ill? So awful? Hannah had told patients before that it got better. That people learned to live with the curse. The ministry provided help, aide to cope with being a werewolf. But she didn’t want this aide. She wanted to do this by herself. To deny anything was wrong.

He looked at her, innocently with a ‘you did this to yourself, deal with the consequences’ kind of look and Hannah felt her dislike for the man at her door increasing. She did nothing to hide it either as her eyes narrowed into a glare.

He was threatening to sack her or place her on disciplinary and as she began to get angry, the wolf that was apparently still within her loomed. Light eyes went darker and she gripped the door tighter. “Are you threatening to discharge me, Healer Marren?” The witch’s voice, decorated with venom responded to the wizard. “I could not prevent yesterday’s absence. Believe me; if I could I would have been dancing on the tiled floor of the ward until every patient brought in due to the full moon had departed dancing as well.”

“Don’t you dare threaten me with ...” Hannah stopped and closed her eyes for a moment, trying to calm her stomach as it lurched, reminding her forcefully that it was still there, still suffering from its ordeal. “No one can vouch for it, Sir.” She muttered very slowly from behind her hand.

“Other commitments; you still are required to tell your Charge when those other commitments are going to interfere with your full-time job.” Honestly, hadn’t she seemed quicker before? Too little sleep, from the looks of it, and that was clearly messing with her retorts and excuses. And forgetting prior agreements about her ‘other commitments.’

It wasn’t his fault she was doing a piss poor job of explaining her actions the day before, and if she got angry with him, that was on her. This was really just a courtesy call anyway.

“No, it’s not a threat, Healer Bombay. A reminder of your contract is all.” Because clearly she needed it. Probation was normal with any steady job; after six months she could get away with a lot more, but a month was pushing it. This could be reason enough, if he could show that she hadn’t had a cold and was backtracking over her reasons for not showing up to work in a timely manner on a day and night everyone was expected to be available.

It was like a planned national disaster. Still, Jason didn’t like to let go of promising Healer’s, and even if her bedside manner was less than fruitful, he was sure it would blossom over time. The optimist side of him was easy to come out.

Then again, he might have liked to see some dancing at work. Would have broken up some of the anxiety everyone had been building up. He tried his best to run a tight ward; he had shoes to fill that he didn’t always think he held up to, after all. An accident during a full moon with a healer (or even another patient or visitor) would be a very bad thing for the man in-charge.

He raised an eyebrow at her reaction; had she been out drinking too much? Frowning suddenly, he crossed his arms over his chest. Jason loved a good drink, but not enough to blow off work for it. Well, not important work anyway. “So that was pointless…” Sighing, he glanced around and then back at her. “So?” He motioned to her, as if expecting an explanation for her current… look.

The way Hannah now saw it, she had two options. Option one was to continue to lie to her boss and create some elaborate excuse for her absence last night and this morning with the great possibility that he wouldn’t believe her and would dismiss her from her position at St Mungo’s. Option two wasn’t much better. She could admit the truth to him in hopes of salvaging her career and anticipate that he didn’t report her to the ministry as an unregistered werewolf.

Hannah decided to go with option two. But she wasn’t going to do it on her doorstep with the prying eyes and ears ofnosy muggle neighbours. Instead she looked up at Jason Marren’s irritated and expectant face and sighed.
“I’m not doing this on my doorstep.” She muttered softly, lowering the hand that had covered her mouth.  With that, the young witch turned on the heels of her bare feet and proceeded to walk unsteadily and slowly back down the hallway and into the living room. The room was dark, curtains drawn and on the sofa a large woollen blanket had been cast messily. A couple of empty vials of homemade wolfsbane potion sat on the coffee table along with a large glass of water.

Standing in front of the sofa, Hannah faced the living room door and her boss. She frowned, her face seeming far paler after the short walk to where she now stood. She felt dizzier, more exhausted. But this had to be done. She had to keep her job.

“You wouldn’t have welcomed my presence on the ward last night, Marren.” The young, unhealthy looking witch told her superior. Before her left hand reached across to the bottom of her jumper sleeve on her right arm. She slowly pulled it up to the elbow, light brown eyes focusing on the other hearer’s expression.  The absence of the sleeve covering her arm revealed a mangled looking scar where she’d been bitten that night in the ward. “My bedside manner isn’t outstanding but I am reasonably optimistic it beats how it would have been last night."

When she turned around and went back into her apartment, Jason hesitated, leaning forward on his toes and then settling back on his heels. His eyes took in the area around him before finally stepping cautiously over the entrance into her space, closing the door behind him, unsure of what he was doing all of a sudden.

It wasn’t bad to be in his employee’s apartment, was it? Not when he was bothering her about work. Completely professional.

Standing just in the living room, he crossed his arms over his chest, his feet planted in a wide, steady stance.

She didn’t look so good.

“What?” He frowned and glanced her face over, feeling uncertain again. Perhaps he should have corrected her; it was Healer-in-Charge Marren to her! However, he didn’t feel the desire to right her wrong. At least this one.

He took in the scar, eyebrows raising however slightly as it dawned on him. And all he could do after her statement was laugh. And laugh again. He covered his mouth, looking down as he chuckled behind it. She wasn’t kidding—her normal bedside manner would have been a hair better than it could have been last night. Finally he sighed and grinned as he dropped his hand back across his chest.

“When did that happen, then? And when were you thinking about letting me know?” It would have become obvious at some point.

The reaction Hannah received for the part confession certainly wasn’t one she would have expected from an employer. His eyes took in the scar, his obviously perturbed brain processed what both the scar and Hannah’s comment meant and quite unexpectedly, he commenced laughing as if he found Hannah’s present situation incredibly comical. Hannah was aware people thought she was different, weird perhaps. She was aware people proceeded with caution around her because of that very fact. What she wasn’t used to was being laughed at by people. This wizard was seemingly more deserving of the description ‘weird’.

She stared at him, too taken aback by the unforeseen reaction to experience any rise in irritancy or anger. This was a wizard who was supposed to run a ward of patients and healers and he exerted a pathetic amount of self control over his emotions. Hannah had never been forthcoming with the wizard. She had kept her distance, as she did with the majority of people. But she had never been disrespectful. She granted him that much. He blasted that back in her face. Especially when he stopped laughing and grinned at her moronically instead.

Hannah decided to ignore his questions.
“Do you express amusement when patients come into the ward with a bite, Marren? Is that where I could be going wrong with my patient relations? I should be amused when they present their injuries? If I have a wizard come in with snake venom poisoning should I crack a joke to lighten to situation? How about if someone comes in having lost their arm to the digestive system of a dragon. Is that a laughing situation? Or a cake and balloon type of celebration?”

The witch gritted her teeth, pulled the jumper sleeve back down to cover the grotesque deformation on her arm and folded her arms over her stomach. “Absolutely hilarious isn’t it, Marren? Almost as hilarious as the fact that you’re in your late thirties and divorced already. I don’t think I can contain my laugher!” He had a nerve.

Some people didn’t have as decent a sense of humor as others. Jason realized his mistake a little too late, but how else was he supposed to react? She had sprouted off a funny line and combined with the situation, sudden realization, and being slapped in the face with it, well… Jason had to laugh. There was nothing else he could do.

His smirk stayed on his face, but it hardened a little, his eyes narrowing slightly as he focused on her a little more. He watched her face, the way she nearly swooned on her feet, the shade of white over her complexion. Jason thought maybe she needed to get something more off her chest, and so he didn’t interrupt her. It was much easier to get an idea of her from the nonverbal cues she gave off. Especially since they seemed more rhetorical.

“Some people heal better with humor and a sense of acceptance. Not everyone can go about their day and accept that what happens, happens.” If the patient seemed receptive, Jason would attempt a soft joke. It lightened the mood and often put the patient at ease. How else were you to treat them if they wouldn’t relax and put their guard down? Some didn’t appreciate humor, and once you figured that out, you went back to what seemed to work before. No one can please everyone one hundred percent of the time, but Jason liked to think he could adapt nearly always. He had a healthy level of empathy.

Then he lost his smirk.

Frowning at his employee, Jason let out a “Hm” before standing up straight, hands going into his trouser pockets. “It’s a piss poor attempt on your part at projecting by trying to turn the focus on my personal failings. The situation is comical, yes. The idea of your bedside manner last night brought a little bit of humor to a dark subject. And my personal issues, that’s comical to the right person.” A half hearted shrug escaped him before he turned towards the door, motioning back to it. “I can let myself out.” And he started for it, pausing as he neared the handle.

Glancing back at her, he gave her a tight smile. “And until you register and explain the nature of your bite, you’ll be on suspension.” Jason didn't have to be a nice guy. When someone decided to stomp all over him when he laughed, then there was no reason to stick around much more. He said what he had to say, and now knew more than he necessarily came looking for.

Her reaction was embarrassing herself. Hannah knew that. Never before in a situation would she act in such an immature manner, dragging up personal matters that she had absolutely no interest in. All she had an interest in was keeping her job and this man keeping his mouth shut. His laughing had left her tired and exhausted self confused, perplexed and she had reacted in the only way she had thought possible. To insult him. It had been completely out of character, but it had happened and right now she didn’t exactly care what he thought about it. She wanted him gone out of her flat so she could hide under the blanket once more and try to forget any of this was happening. Denial was perfect.

Marren informed her he would let himself out and Hannah still followed him into the hallway, withdrawing her wand. She wanted to lock the door as soon as he’d exited through it and place a muffling charm on it to stop any other unwanted visitors from awakening her. She did not want to see people at the moment.

“And until you register and explain the nature of your bite, you’ll be on suspension.”

His last words kicked her in the gut. Hannah stared at him from the doorway to the living room. His actions were ridiculous but she couldn’t summon the strength or the motivation to point that out right now. She wanted him gone out of her personal space. Hannah could speak to him when her mind was functioning as usual and mere movement didn’t leave her exhausted and in discomfort.

“Of course.” She muttered in response as she slowly walked towards the door and closed it after him. Once the spells had been case, she leant against the door and closed her eyes. This was serious.